


Defragmented

by bethycool



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Anger, Anxiety, Awkward Flirting, Conflict Resolution, Confrontations, Confusion, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jealousy, Meaningless Sex, Minor Violence, Relationship(s), Sexual Tension, Stalking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-05-01 18:25:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 40,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5216066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethycool/pseuds/bethycool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yasmin moves from Alaska to NYC to pursue a new life. She's always up for meeting new people and that's exactly what she'll get and more. She finds an apartment in a decent part of town, on a nice street with everything she needs. The first person she meets in the entire city ends up being the most important to her - a man with a dark complexion and equally dark clothing but with a heart of gold and a labyrinth for a brain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Installation

**Author's Note:**

> Not written for a while - quite rusty. Please be patient. Constructive criticism always welcome.

Moving into a new apartment is difficult enough, let alone moving into a new apartment in a new city, state and time zone! Back in Alaska, life was quiet at its noisiest, and everyone in town would somehow know your business, even if you hadn’t whispered a word of it to anyone. One day, the quiet and boring life reached its climax when Yasmin was questioned by an old auntie in the community about her television viewing habits as she ‘was just passing by’ and ‘noticed the channel was maybe a bit mature for her age’. At that point, Yasmin knew it was time to move on, her life needed more excitement than a new stapler at work. She packed her bags, bought a one way ticket with some money inherited from her grandparents and flew out to New York City as soon as she could.

Upon arriving in New York, Yasmin’s first goal was to find an apartment. In one of the quieter parts of a city that doesn’t sleep she found a fourth floor walk-up whose stairs weren’t too shady and neighbours, not too seedy. It looked from the estate agent’s pictures that it was above a Chinese and on a brightly lit street. Yasmin phoned up the vendor and took the apartment without a second glace back at Alaska. She had enough money to tide her over for a month or so – just so long she ate ramen every day and only drank water!

She stood at the front stairs with a large suitcase and a backpack and heaved a sigh. The front door looked like it was the pinnacle of a mountain from her position on the pavement. A few tuts and mutters were thrown her way, making it obvious that standing in the middle of a public walkway during lunchtime was not a preferable thing to do in this city, at least. Yasmin heaved her suitcase up the stairs and routed through her pocket to find the scrap of paper with the entrance code on it. Suddenly the heavy door was yanked open and a young man clad in a black hoodie and in possession of only a backpack and a small Cairn terrier passed by Yasmin. She watched him go down the steps and muttered a quiet ‘thank-you’ to him as she wedged the door open with her foot.

Reaching the fourth floor, Yasmin collapsed onto the nearest step and caught her breath, by now her jumper and backpack had come off and were haphazardly strewn across the landing; Yasmin was never the tidiest or most elegant of people anyway. She was interrupted by the sound of oncoming footfall, she stood up and dragged her case out of the way of the stairs, already learning that leaving anything in the path of anyone in NYC was not a good idea. She stole a glance up at the person approaching and was met with a familiar black hoodie and small black, shaggy dog. The man’s face was taut yet nonchalant, like he really hoped no one was on the landing and was clearly upset that there was. His eyes were what struck Yasmin as she stood up straight and plastered a sheepish smile onto her face; they were a hazy green, like moss on an autumn morning or algae at the bottom of a pond – maybe that wasn’t the best description but growing up in Alaska fills your mind with intimate knowledge of nature. The small dog scurried up to her and sniffed at her shoes, Yasmin let the dog sniff her hand and petted its head sweetly.

“Sorry, I’m in your way,” she explained uselessly. The man did not seem bothered about her belongings blocking his path and he watched his dog calmly as it sniffed curiously at Yasmin’s bag and shoes. Yasmin picked up her hoodie and backpack and slung them over her shoulder, his mouth remained quite taut as it was upon leaving the building and she quietly wondered if that was how his face naturally rested. “I’m Yasmin. I’ll be moving into apartment D,” she quipped a smile, offered her hand to him and motioned over her shoulder to the aforementioned apartment. 

His eyes glanced at her hand and back up to her face and he shrugged slightly, “I’m Elliot, this is Flipper.” Yasmin smiled at him and awkwardly took back her hand, noticing his shoulders were tensed nearly up to his ears, she summarised that human contact wasn’t really his thing. She stepped aside to let him past and busied herself with finding her keys that were stuffed into a pocket she never used in her backpack.

Flipper scurried across the floor after Elliot who was holding his apartment door open, her nails scratching against the wood. Yasmin waved slightly and murmured a ‘nice to meet you’ before the door shut and she was left alone on the landing.


	2. FAQ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit longer. Still figuring this out.

The first night in Yasmin’s new apartment was going well so far, she took a shower, found her fluffy pyjamas and was watching reality TV on Netflix whilst eating her first cup of ramen. Yasmin saw shadows under the door and the corresponding footsteps to accompany them, the apartment was in need of furnishing and so echoed at any slight movement she made. Yasmin vowed to go furniture hunting the next day and then made a mental note to make sure they had free door-to-door delivery to save herself lugging heavy items up the stairs.

The pitter-patter of tiny paws and claws broke Yasmin away from her thoughts. Elliot was probably taking Flipper out again before bed, or maybe another person had a dog on her floor? Come to think of it, for such a busy city, Yasmin was surprised at how quiet and peaceful it was in her apartment building. Sure the occasional sound of sirens filtered through every now and then but Yasmin was extremely happy with her choice to move to New York – she had simply outgrown Alaska.

Finishing her ramen and washing the fork she used, Yasmin thought about the hooded man she had inadvertently met twice in one day. The limited choice of men back home mixed with the ingrained characteristic of nosiness meant that Yasmin strayed away from dating in her small town; she didn’t feel like being probed by everyone she met about talking to a member of the opposite sex. In a place where no one knew here, at least apart from Elliot, and even then it was only her name, Yasmin was giddy with the choices opening up to her in regards to her future career, relationships and lifestyle.

The water from the tap ran cold and Yasmin moved to put the chain on the door and lock up for the first time. Through the peephole she caught sight of Elliot returning, she couldn’t help but take a peek and watch a little longer than required. He moved swiftly yet unhurriedly – he had a place to be but did not have any rush to get there. Flipper trotted behind him up the stairs, her little legs making it difficult to keep up with her owner. There was nothing special about Elliot that intrigued Yasmin, he was just a guy she met and lived next to, he was the first person she had met for goodness sake! Yasmin allowed herself one more glance through the peephole and scurried to the bathroom to brush her teeth and then to bed.

\--

The next morning Yasmin woke with the sun – preferring to keep her blinds open at night. She stretched in bed and collapsed against her pillows and rubbed her eyes. Yasmin had dreamt about tiny black puppies and equally dark owners, standing on the outskirts of her vision, blurry and standing stock-still. Maybe Elliot and Flipper had made more of an impression than she previously thought, but Yasmin would not allow her inner school-girl to linger on the thought for long. She stole herself and got up to take what she hoped would be a warm shower before getting dressed and grabbing a granola bar. 

Granola bar poking out her mouth, Yasmin flicked through her Pinterest board, adding a few bits and bobs and doing some research into second-hand furniture stores in the city. She located a sofa and dining table she wanted and made a call to the owner to confirm the delivery this afternoon. After not being awake for more than an hour she felt quite pleased with her morning’s work and decided to treat herself to a coffee at the shop she noticed on the corner of her street. Yasmin grabbed her boots, backpack and book and unlocked her door. Low and behold as she turned to walk down the stairs she caught a glimpse of a familiar black hoodie disappearing just ahead of her. Half-tempted to catch-up to Elliot, Yasmin held herself back and settled on admiring from a distance – she couldn’t be settling on the first piece of NYC manhood she laid her eyes on.

Yasmin placed an order for a caramel swirl latte and found a large comfy chair in the window of the shop to curl up on. The cafe would be what one would describe as a ‘hipster hangout’ but Yasmin didn’t care; good coffee was good coffee and people watching was her third favourite hobby, behind reading and bedtime activities of an explicit nature. She took a long sip of her coffee and revelled in its sweetness and the way the warmth filled her belly.

The next time she looked up, the sun was at its highest point and was being blocked, thankfully, by a tall building – or well, a building, as all buildings were tall here. Yasmin marked her page and closed the book, gathered her backpack and thanked the owner with a genuine smile. 

By the time her furniture had arrived and had been set up by the delivery men, Yasmin was becoming hungry and getting takeout was never enjoyed to the best of its ability by oneself. She stole herself, opened her door and stood in front of apartment E. She paused with her hand an inch away from the wood, weathered from countless years of tenants and a lack of a maintenance man to touch up the paintwork. What was she so worried about? It’s not like Elliot would bite – not in that way anyway, Yasmin sniggered at her own thoughts and rapped on the door three times and waited. A delicate bark and scurrying came from inside the apartment and a minute later the door cracked open revealing an Elliot she hadn’t experienced before, one in a tight grey t-shirt and bare feet. He muttered a greeting and Yasmin bit the inside of her lip and smiled.

“I was wondering, do you want to get takeout?” Yasmin cheerfully asked. Elliot furrowed his brow and took in the rest of Yasmin, seemingly for the first time, even though they had met twice previously. “That’s only if you want to, it’s no fun on your own,” she joked half-heartedly, slowly feeling his interest slip away. What seemed like an hour passed of silence and under Elliot’s cautious yet curious stare, Yasmin felt like an idiot. She ducked her head in a sort of apology and turned to go back into her apartment.

“Wait. Sure…I was going to order something anyway.” Elliot said and opened his door wider. “Do you want to come in? I doubt you have any menus.” Elliot turned from his door and retreated into his apartment, presumably to find takeout menus. Yasmin gave herself a mini high-five and made sure she had her apartment keys before shutting her door. She peered into the apartment – much the same shape and size of her own and cautiously took a few steps inside. Elliot was bent over his desk, rifling through a drawer of papers when Yasmin slipped off her shoes and bent down to pet Flipper. 

“What do you want? There’s a good Chinese on 65 West…” Elliot trailed off and stood up facing Yasmin. She was sat on the floor with Flipper in her lap, licking at her jacket buttons and giggling. 

Yasmin looked up and saw Elliot staring with an odd expression on his face, “um sure, whatever you want. Surprise me!” she turned her attention back to the little dog who had brought over her favourite toy – what looked like one of Elliot’s socks.

Elliot scratched his head and fiddled with his hair – Yasmin noted his nervous behaviour and smiled, he may have been uncomfortable but goddamn he was attractive. Yasmin blamed her hormones for finding features of Elliot to fixate on but she didn’t exactly mind it either – there was a reason she chose Elliot to share takeout with instead of introducing herself to another neighbour. Elliot walked over to her and held the menu out for her to take. “Let me know what you want, I need the bathroom.” Yasmin scoured the menu – Chinese – and found her usual dish plus a couple of new ones she hadn’t heard of. Alaskan Chinese food was limited to Chow Mein and sweet and sour, none of this pineapple and black bean Sichuan fiery pepper nonsense!

When Elliot came out of the bathroom, Yasmin was sat cross legged on his sofa, thumbing through a magazine he must have picked up on his way back from work. She looked up and for the first time, unashamedly stared at Elliot. He was a shorter guy than average – five foot nine or five foot ten, his body was slim yet not scrawny, maybe he did exercise in his free time. Although looking around the apartment, there were hardly any signs of sweatpants, shorts or running shoes, maybe he walked to work then. His hands seemed a little larger than usual, like he usually did physical work – Yasmin decided she would become this man’s friend, and she would find out these details that didn’t seem to matter to anyone else but her. Yasmin had already decided that no matter what Elliot was dressed like, he would always pull it off, he had that nonchalance, coolness and awkwardness to look good in anything. She mused quietly to herself that she’d like to find the silliest outfit possible and dress him up in it, like a Ken doll. 

Elliot was staring at her, maintaining eye contact for short periods of time and then returning to her eyes and face. He didn’t look uncomfortable under her scrutiny, unlike most people would. Maybe he did it himself and so this was normal behaviour to him. Yasmin didn’t care what sort of message she was giving off by staring, after suppressing herself and hiding her true nature for 20 years of her life, she wanted to be bold and bold she would be. Elliot coughed nervously and moved slowly to a small fish bowl sat next to the sofa; Yasmin’s eyes followed him, watching the way his body moved, the way every stride he took, he took with a purpose. He found a small container on the stand and pinched a few flakes between his fingers and dropped them into the bowl. “This is Qwerty.” He provided to Yasmin.

Breaking out from her reverie of Elliot, she handed him the menu and pointed out what she wanted. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, settled back on the sofa and found an app. With a few punches, the order was placed and he slipped his phone onto the table – Yasmin supposed telephone conversations were limited with him too. He sat motionless, watching Flipper as she chewed his sock and Yasmin watched him watch her. Silence fell over the apartment, with the exception of chewing sounds and the occasional siren. Yasmin liked his apartment, it was sparsely decorated yet perfectly sufficient for Elliot – she assumed. It wasn’t like she knew him but she had a certain feeling about him.

“Do you work at a construction site?” Yasmin blurted out. Elliot turned his head slowly towards her with wide doe eyes and shook his head slightly. Yasmin nodded to herself and turned to face the rest of the apartment, she noted his eyes remained fixed. “Well your hands are quite big, I suppose that is helpful sometimes…” Yasmin added awkwardly, not thinking about what meaning he could take from what she said. She continued to browse through the magazine – it wasn’t her usual read, full of tech and gadgets and a hint of modern male fashion interspersed throughout.

Elliot watched Yasmin carefully. He didn’t know her full name yet but he bet that she was an only child, looking for a big break. When he had moved to NYC, he was in a similar situation, except for the big break part, AllSafe was fine for him. This girl popped up from nowhere and seemed to have already decided she wanted something to do with Elliot’s life. He didn’t mind this per se, even though Elliot found it difficult to make friends and connect with people, it didn’t mean he didn’t want to connect with them. If someone wanted to force themselves onto him – figuratively or literally – then Elliot was open to most.

A year had passed since Shayla. He couldn’t bring himself to think it. But a year had passed, AllSafe had somehow managed to reinvent itself and Elliot still had his mundane job. It’s not that he had been busying himself with work – just that he didn’t do anything else but work. Qwerty and Flipper were enough for him during that year. Yasmin was an autumn breeze into his life – unexpected and brusque, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

Elliot’s phone buzzed with a call from the delivery man. Yasmin looked up, watched him slip on some shoes and leave to collect their food.


	3. Incompatible

Yasmin took it upon herself to find cutlery for the both of them – she hoped Elliot didn’t mind her rifling through his drawers, at least there was an extremely slim chance of her finding anything embarrassing or incriminating in the kitchen. From the sofa, Flipper watched the stranger snoop about the apartment and make quite a lot of noise – mainly noises of frustration, whilst she waited patiently for her master to come back. Elliot opened the door silently and was bemused to see Yasmin searching through cupboards and drawers, eventually giving up and huffing to herself. He shut the door a little louder than usual and Yasmin jumped in surprise at his return.

“Where the heck to you put your knives and forks?” she grumbled. Elliot shrugged and sat down on the sofa, emptying their takeout bag and opening containers. Yasmin joined him and sheepishly took a pair of chopsticks offered to her by Elliot. She glanced at him and watched what he did with his chopsticks, it’s not like she would ever admit this to anyone, but she didn’t know how anyone managed to eat with these bits of wood. Yasmin copied Elliot as nonchalantly as possible until it came down to her picking up her first piece of chicken. She tried to use them in a pincer movement just like he did but couldn’t grab the slippery piece of food and it dropped back into the container. Yasmin tried and tried again until finally the chicken was halfway to her mouth when suddenly it shot out from between her chopsticks like a catapult and landed somewhere on the other side of the coffee table.

Elliot grinned and let out a slight chuckle whilst Yasmin blushed and swore loudly, placing her takeout back on the table and covering her face with her hands. Flipper shot up from Elliot’s pillow and raced across the floor, devouring the chicken and sitting at Yasmin’s feet with an expectant look on her face.

“Here, let me show you how. It takes time to master.” Elliot said amused, he still had a grin plastered to his face when he expertly picked up a piece of Yasmin’s food with his chopsticks. She turned to him and pouted in her embarrassed state until he lifted the food to her mouth and waited for her to open up. Feeling like a child, Yasmin ate the chicken provided by Elliot and prodded her food with her chopsticks.

“I don’t suppose you have a fork do you?” Elliot shook his head with a smirk on his face and swapped his container for hers.

“Sorry, I hardly ever eat at home and when I do, it’s usually takeout or ramen.” Yasmin nodded nervously as she knew this meant being spoon-fed, or rather chopstick-fed, by Elliot for the duration of their evening.

Elliot had a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he fed Yasmin bit by bit. A few times she stole herself and tried again with the chopsticks, only to provide the same result in more food for Flipper and less for herself. Yasmin found the only way to eat successfully was to stab her food with a chopstick and eat it like a kebab, she was determined to not embarrass herself any further in front of Elliot. However Elliot was having the most fun eating food in a long time, he teased Yasmin by using his chopsticks as an aeroplane or a train, circling and weaving them closer to her mouth. During those moments, Yasmin broke out in a smile and giggled at his childishness and ate her food happily. It took twice as long for all of their containers to be empty but they didn’t really mind. 

Elliot placed down his empty takeout box and went to the kitchen to feed Flipper. She trotted behind him happily, knowing exactly what was going to happen when he reached for the dog food, her tail wagged eagerly and Yasmin busied herself with tidying up their mess. Flipper fed, Elliot plopped himself back on the sofa and tucked his feet under himself and turned to look at Yasmin.

“I hope you’re not still hungry, because there’s no way I’m feeding you dessert!” Yasmin blushed and smacked his knee, embarrassed.

“Oh sod off! Where I’m from we eat like civilised people, with knives and forks, not with small bits of tree!” she barked back at him. Yasmin quieted her laughing and pushed at a dust mite with her foot. “You mentioned dessert?” she said slyly, eliciting a smile from Elliot.

“It depends on what you class as dessert,” he grinned and quirked an eyebrow. Yasmin blushed harder and hid her face behind a curtain of hair. Yasmin was mortified at her body’s reactions to this attractive man yet in her head, she wouldn’t mind a bit of the dessert Elliot was talking about, especially if it occurred outside of a dream. Elliot quieted down and smiled at his ruffled neighbour, he couldn’t remember a time he had smiled so much since the events of last year. He had forgotten how meaningless, simple conversations and hanging out with friends were really exciting things to do, living on his own with Flipper didn’t prompt nearly as many laughs and gaieties.

The pair settled into comfortable silence until a yawn spilled out of Yasmin’s mouth and she stood up and stretched. “I guess I should be heading off to bed, I have a long day of doing nothing planned for tomorrow,” she joked with a grimace on her face. Elliot nodded and slipped his shoes back on, at the sound, Flipper woke up from her nap and scurried over to where her lead hung by the door.

“I’m going to take her out before she pisses all over the place.” Elliot explained as he grabbed his keys and zipped up his hoodie. Yasmin grabbed her shoes and opened the door, fiddling with her own keys before finding the right one and slipping it into the lock. “Look man, tonight was fun. Thanks for knocking.” Elliot spoke slowly, meaningfully and made eye contact with Yasmin, using his chin to punctuate his thanks. Somehow she could tell this was unusual for him and she felt a little bit special inside, like she had actually helped him in a meaningful way, even if that meant bringing a smile to his face.

“Yeah, me too. Thanks for feeding me. If it wasn’t for you, I would be starving now!” she joked with a grin plastered to her face. Elliot smiled too, fiddled with his hair and shut the door, Flipper gazing up at Yasmin as if she was waiting for the conversation to end. 

“I hope I don’t wake you up coming back. If you need anything, you know where I am. I work during the week, sometimes from home so I’ll see you around, alright?” he explained to Yasmin as a teacher would to a student. She nodded in understanding and smiled once more at him before slipping into her apartment, mumbling a ‘good night’ and sliding the chain into place.

Yasmin couldn’t help the massive grin that spread across her face at the memories from tonight. She fell onto her bed, giggling to herself at her own behaviour. Elliot wasn’t the first guy to give Yasmin some attention, but this time it felt different. She started the night craving company and ended up feeling like they both mutually benefitted from a chilled night with no pressure for them to be anyone but themselves. 

Yasmin allowed herself to swoon silently in her head, thinking about Elliot’s bright smile and the way his eyes lit up at her clumsiness using chopsticks. Yasmin had already decided that she wanted to see his smile as often as possible, she sensed that he wasn’t a person that smiled enough. She always believed that a smile can brighten up anyone’s day and tonight, with Elliot, proved it. Maybe his day previously was going fine, he was doing work and looking after Flipper, but Yasmin liked to think that now he would go to bed happy, amused at least.

Yasmin peeled off her clothes and climbed into her fuzzy pyjamas once more before turning off the light and falling into a deep slumber filled with menacing people using chopsticks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and criticism welcome! I'm getting back into this a bit.


	4. Malfunction

A couple of days passed by with nothing more than the scratching of Flipper’s claws on the landing and Yasmin was starting to think she had a bout of beginners luck and by now, it had run out. She sat on her sofa with some noodles, pondering what to do for the rest of the day, pyjamas still on and her thick-rimmed glasses perched on her nose when she heard the familiar sound of the little dog padding across the landing and undeniably high-heeled shoes following shortly after. Yasmin paused to hear better, thinking her ears had been playing tricks on her. She made a confused face and shrugged it off, Elliot must have a girlfriend or a roommate she didn’t know about. When she thought logically, why wouldn’t Elliot have a girlfriend? He’s staggeringly handsome in a nondescript way, owns a cute fluffy dog, a fish and isn’t a total asshat. Somewhere deep inside Yasmin, a fire fizzled out and she felt a little more resigned to just being friends with him; not like that wasn’t enough. To be able to even call Elliot her friend meant more to her than anyone would know and Yasmin vowed to not be down about a potential girlfriend and instead, resolve to meet her and maybe make friends with her too. 

Yasmin’s internal pep-talk cheered her up and she finished her ramen quickly and jumped in the shower. She pulled on some jeans and her warmest of hoodies and headed to the library to print out her resume to hand out in coffee shops and restaurants. As soon as Yasmin finished high school, she had started working at her family’s restaurant back in Alaska. Business was slow to say the least and after only being there 6 months she was promoted to restaurant manager which Yasmin hoped to stand her in good stead for a job in one of the city’s many establishments. Yasmin collected her resumes from the printer, paid the lady behind the counter and set off into the city. She decided to focus her search on places less than half an hour away from home and started canvassing. 

All of her resumes handed out and with an ache in the balls of her feet, Yasmin sat on the subway until her stop, half an hour away. One thing Yasmin really loved about NYC was how large it was and the process of travelling on public transport allowed her to people watch; observe the vast range of people that inhabited the city – from goths to punks and sorority girls to jocks and every race under the sun! She pushed in her earbuds and turned on some music, nodding along mindlessly to it as she took in her surroundings and fellow citizens. With only five stops until home, the doors opened and in trickled a few people, some in business suits with briefcases whose faces were wrinkled and pasty from a day’s work in the financial sector or at a publishing house (she guessed) and some dressed smartly for a dinner at the other side of the city. The last person to enter her carriage wore a familiar black hoodie and a larger than large backpack, Yasmin wondered what he kept in his backpack, musing to herself that he was like the Mary Poppins of 21st century men. 

Elliot pushed his phone back into his jeans pocket and scanned the carriage, presumably for a seat when his eyes caught Yasmin’s and went very wide in a mixture of surprise and some deep-rooted fear of having to actually talk to someone unexpectedly. Yasmin grinned brightly and pulled out her earbuds; music and people-watching now pushed aside. Elliot nodded at her in a greeting and gruffly uttered a ‘hey, man’ as he sat down in the empty seat next to her. Yasmin turned to face him and pushed some hair out of her face that had fallen with the backdraft from the doors.

“Fancy meeting you here! You must be coming back from work.” She presumed, noticing a button-down shirt collar poking out from his hoodie, as if trying to escape off the person who clearly wasn’t comfortable in it. Elliot nodded and lifted his work ID and offered it to her, Yasmin noted the ‘cybersecurity engineer’ in typed black letters next to a picture of the man sat next to her that was obviously taken on a bad day – his eyes were sunken into his head, mouth as taut as she had ever seen it before and his hair was dishevelled and longer than at the present. She gave it back and he slipped it back inside his hoodie and pushed his hand back into his pocket.

“How was your day? I didn’t imagine you as a tech-guy, actually I’m not sure what job you had to be honest! I’ve just been scouring the neighbourhood trying to find a job…not that there are lots out there mind you…” Yasmin garbled to fill the silence between them that was beginning to grow awkward. She hoped Elliot was just tired after a long day at work and wasn’t mad at her or had gone off her. Why would he have gone off her? She hadn’t seen him since their takeout night and from what she can remember, he had more fun than she did! Her nervous thoughts weren’t helped by the shrugging of Elliot’s shoulders and the hunching of his body, as if to curl in on himself and disappear. She decided that silence was probably the best option for them until they reached home.

\--

They exited the subway together and Yasmin was hindered by some tourists lingering at the top of the stairs, however she was pleased to see Elliot waiting for her next to a phone booth, bouncing on his toes gently, impatiently. Yasmin gave him a thankful smile and they continued down the familiar streets to their building, their hands in their pockets, hoods up and bodies hunched against the cold autumn wind that swept through the city.

Upon arriving at their building, Elliot ascended the stairs first, opened the door and held it for the shivering Yasmin. Her teeth chattered and she rubbed her hands together as she climbed the stairs, two at a time. She reached their landing first and fumbled about with her backpack for her keys whilst Elliot had only just started to trudge up their floor’s staircase. Yasmin huffed and crouched down on the floor in order to properly take a look in her bag, she emptied out her umbrella and wallet when she awkwardly wobbled and rocked back on her heels and made an undignified sound rolling onto her back like an upside-down tortoise!

The next thing she knew, she saw a distorted view of Elliot with his head thrown back laughing loudly at her misfortune. Yasmin groaned out loud and turned onto her side and curled up in a ball, overwhelmed with embarrassment. Yasmin knew something like this was bound to happen, she was known as the clumsy one in the family – the unwilling family clown. It didn’t take long for Elliot to quiet down enough to tap her on the shoulder and ask if she was alright, to which Yasmin grunted and pulled her hood over her head. Elliot chuckled again and tugged at her hand to help her up, Yasmin muttered a thank you and hid her face as she unwillingly let go of his warm grasp. Yasmin knew her cheeks would be beetroot-red and she had her eyes screwed shut when she noticed it becoming lighter through her eyelids, she peeked out and saw a pair of green doe eyes looking into her own, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Yasmin drew in a deep breath and tried to shrug off her ineptitude, smoothing out her hoodie and brushing dust from her jeans.

“You’re not the most elegant person ever are you?” he mused at Yasmin. She shook her head and smiled back at him, retrieving her belongings from the floor and finally finding her keys in a completely different pocket into which she was looking previously. Elliot spread his arms wide and approached her cautiously as if she were a wild animal and embraced her, patting her back slowly.

“Due to your recent awkwardness, I have deemed you in need of a hug,” he proclaimed happily. Yasmin’s head was on fire at this point, filled with embarrassment and shame which was quickly being replaced by scents of men’s body wash, a slight musk and limes. She wiggled an arm out from in front of her to wrap around him, grasping his back loosely and she closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of something other than her own cheeks. Yasmin swooned quietly in the embrace and vowed to remember his scent as best as she could when finally he pulled away and twirled his keys on one finger as if mocking her inability to find her own. In reality, the hug probably only lasted a few seconds but for Yasmin, she wouldn’t be able to forget his warmth, scent and her heart jumping at his touch for a while, she hoped silently. The blush resided on her cheeks and she pushed her hair out of her face in order to see him better, his posture was relaxed and open, his feet at right angles to each other slouching slightly and his face no longer taut as if in pain but happy and boy-ish. 

“You be careful now, I don’t want to have to come and rescue you if you fall over again,” he teased gently, slipping his key into the door and opening it. An excited Flipper rushed out past him and landed at Yasmin’s feet, sniffing wildly seemingly knowing she had been all over the city and encountered many another doggy smell. 

“You live to tease me don’t you?” she playfully jested to which Elliot gave a slight nod and a shrug in response. He ushered Flipper into his apartment and shut the door, ducking his head to Yasmin in a goodbye. Yasmin too entered her apartment and flopped onto her bed, hiding her face in her pillow both embarrassed and giddy at a simple hug. She equalled that she deserved a bit of an indulgence after being embarrassed and let her emotions of lust, want and sexual tension engulf her whole body as she replayed the joy that spread across his face, into his eyes, his cheeks and his posture; relaxing every part of him and allowing him a moment of unadulterated happiness.

She kicked her shoes off and rolled onto her back, a massive grin spread across her face in sheer delight. She could still smell him deep in her nostrils and she sniffed a bit of her hoodie, just to check she wasn’t going insane. Limes and musk indeed were present on her jacket, verifying Yasmin wasn’t crazy and that she had indeed been embraced than none other than the centre of her world at the current moment. Yasmin concluded her day had been an extremely positive one.


	5. Phishing

Yasmin awoke to the sound of her ringtone blasting into the room. She felt aimlessly for her phone and answered it groggily. Yasmin nodded and made noises of understanding at the person on the other end of the phone and shot out of bed to her door when she heard knocking. She wedged the phone between her cheek and shoulder and slid open the lock, not remembering she hadn’t got dressed yet. Yasmin continued her conversation and opened the door a crack, immediately shutting it again when she saw who it was; his hair was dishevelled, clearly he had only just got out of bed as well, his eyes slightly puffy from sleep and wearing just some shorts, a shirt and socks. Yasmin composed herself and ended the phone call before opening the door again, this time covering herself and forcing a half-grimace-half-smile onto her face.

“Hey…look I know this is shitty timing but I’ve locked myself out of my apartment…can I use your phone and possibly borrow a blanket because it’s fucking cold out here!” Yasmin chuckled and didn’t open the door, instead she looked him up and down and watched him shiver slightly as he stood on the landing, where the chilly morning air entered through the open window in gusts.

“How will you repay me for being oh-so kind to you, dear Elliot?” she teased him. Elliot’s face suddenly grew darker his eyebrows drawing together and mouth becoming taut with anger at being hindered a warm blanket to snuggle up in.

“God damn it,” he ran his hand through his hair and huffed, “I’ll…teach you how to not get your Facebook hacked…I’ll do your dishes…invite you over for dinner, fucking anything! Please let me in, I’m freezing my balls off out here!” he punctuated each of his offers with his chin and gritted his teeth to stop them chattering.

Yasmin smirked at Elliot and opened the door. She watched as he scurried past her and walked purposefully to her bed, flopped down on it and wrapped himself up in the duvet, sighing when he felt the warmth from her residual body heat. 

Upon seeing Elliot interacting with her bed in more than just an innocent way, Yasmin immediately felt slightly aroused and so busied herself with making some coffee for them both. She turned from her kitchen with two steaming cups and found Elliot hadn’t moved an inch since he landed on her bed, his feet poked out from her duvet and his faced was pushed into her pillow.

“You comfy there you clumsy, pyjama-clad hacker?” she teasingly questioned him, placing his coffee on her bedside table. Elliot nodded into her pillow and uttered a muffled ‘thank you’ for the coffee, smelling the freshly ground roast wafting through the apartment. Yasmin curled up on the sofa and unabashedly gawked at the sight of him on her bed. His feet seemed to tap out a rhythm of sorts, flapping out the end of her duvet and Yasmin had a strong urge to tickle them. She thought better of it as she did not want to put a dampener on her rather good morning so far by spooking him or causing some sort of unexpected-touching fear to rear its ugly head.

“So…why were you outside of your apartment not wearing any proper clothes?” she asked, taking a sip of her coffee and warming her hands. Elliot spoke his answer into her pillow, meaning it came out completely garbled and unintelligible. “I can’t hear you, dimwit. Turn over,” Yasmin chastised like she would to a small child. Elliot huffed in response and tried to turn over, Yasmin watched his feet make a determined, yet unsuccessful, kick of momentum whilst bound together in the comforter. He wriggled about, his body causing rumples and bumps in the duvet as he squirmed around inside. A grin spread over Yasmin’s face and she fished out her phone and began recording the ridiculous spectacle, quietly giggling from the sofa. Elliot continued to wriggle around, eventually managing to turn himself 180° so his head was at the foot of her bed. By this time Yasmin’s phone was shaking with her not-so-quiet laughter and Elliot’s head popped up, his hair even more ruffled and his face red from exertion. As soon as he noticed Yasmin recording him, he let out a wide grin and made a conscious effort to extricate himself from her duvet, launching himself at her and falling short of the sofa. She screamed at his sudden escape and jumped up and stopped the recording, immediately hiding her phone in her tank top next to her breast, where no man would dare to go to fish out a woman’s phone.

“Delete it now!” he demanded at her, with a wide grin on his face and his eyes glinting with mischievousness. Yasmin backed away from him until her back hit the wall and she side stepped away, shaking her head when suddenly she felt herself trapped in a corner. Elliot stalked towards her, his face suspiciously relaxed however his voice and eyes betrayed his intentions of keeping her calm. His words dripped like syrup from his mouth; slow, measured and sickeningly sweet. “Yasmin, give me your phone or else…” he menacingly said, glancing at her breasts where she had hidden her phone. Yasmin blushed and she felt her heartbeat racing in her chest, she shook her head and bit her lip. Elliot noted her lip biting and his eyes deviated between her mouth, eyes and breasts; she felt very exposed and she secretly revelled in the attention. Elliot continued his stalk towards her until he stopped with less than a foot between them, he stared into her eyes for more than a comfortable amount of time and Yasmin coughed nervously, breaking eye contact with him. His mouth quirked up in a smirk and his eyes showed he loved how uncomfortable and bare he was making her feel. All of a sudden he stood up straight and nonchalantly walked back over to the sofa and sat with his legs spread wide apart, Yasmin couldn’t help stealing a glance.

“Don’t delete the video if you don’t want to. I can just hack into your router, find your IP address, access your online cloud account and delete it from there,” he smirked at her, checking his fingernails for dirt. Yasmin recovered her breathing back to normal and slowly approached him, standing with her arms folded across her chest.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Oh yeah? Watch me! If you don’t believe me, give me your laptop, I’ll do it now,” his voice dripped with the knowledge that he _knew_ how to do it and Yasmin _knew_ he knew it too. She shook her head and smiled sweetly at him, an idea popping into her head.

“You said you’d do anything for me to let you in, prove it and don’t delete the video.” Elliot’s eyes went wide, clearly not seeing this coming to him. He chewed the inside of his cheek and stuck his hand out for her to shake.

“Done. Shake on it.” Yasmin grinned triumphantly and grasped his hand. Elliot jerked their conjoined hands towards his chest until they were nose to nose. His breath fanned out against her face and his doe green eyes stared into her own warm hazel ones. “But don't think I won’t hack you, Yasmin. I hack everyone.”


	6. Update

A few days after the ‘duvet-snuggle-video’ incident, Yasmin was brushing her hair and putting it up into a pony tail, dressed in her barista uniform for the place down the street. She had continued to frequent the shop and got chatting to the owner, he mentioned about being short staffed and wouldn’t mind employing a part-time barista slash secretary. Upon mentioning her previous experience with not only working in a restaurant and serving coffees and lunches throughout the day, but also Yasmin was right in thinking that despite working there less than 6 months, being promoted to restaurant manager boosted her resume significantly. Yasmin happily accepted the job offered to her by the owner and started the next day. 

Yasmin picked up her backpack and wound a thick scarf around her neck – the weather in the city had plummeted in the weeks she had lived there and was beginning to resemble an early spring in Alaska. Snow, ice and bone-tingling blizzards were nothing for Yasmin, she came equipped with a full snowsuit if necessary – even if it did make her look like a purple and black marshmallow man from Ghostbusters.

Yasmin exited the apartment and turned to lock the door. Out of the corner of her left eye Elliot’s door opened and a tall brunette with full lips, heavy black eyeliner and wedge-pumps appeared, wiping her mouth with her long, red-nailed finger and smirking. Yasmin shuffled uncomfortably, a spark of hurt, upset and jealousy appearing in her belly. She heard the woman – diva-like in her posture and walk – shut the door and leave down the stairs. Yasmin swallowed and with one last look of hurt at Elliot’s front door, forced a smile onto her face and took a deep breath; Yasmin entered customer service mode and she vowed to not let it drop until she returned, unlocked her door and was safe in the confines of her apartment once more.

\--

Half-way through her shift, Yasmin’s feet ached – she had not worked at the restaurant for a month or so and all of a sudden had to readjust to being on her feet for 8 hours at a time. She took a gulp of iced water, a bite of a blueberry muffin and turned back to the counter, where a dark-eyed man awaited. Yasmin’s smile did not falter as she used her sickly-sweet voice to ask what he wanted. Elliot paused and his eyes went wider than usual. Whilst Yasmin waited for his response, another customer stood behind Elliot tutted and peered round him with an exasperated look on his face.

“Yasmin…”he paused, flabbergasted at this ‘new’ Yasmin he had never seen before, “it’s me, Elliot.”

“Hello Elliot, my name is indeed Yasmin and I’ll be serving you today. What can I get for you?” Elliot clenched his jaw in confusion and pulled a lock of his hair. Yasmin thought he looked disconcerted, it amused her slightly behind her coffee-shop mask. He opened his mouth to speak only nothing came out. Elliot swiftly turned around and narrowly missed bumping into the disgruntled customer who shouted an expletive at him. Yasmin took a deep breath and regained her focus, uttering sympathetic words to the man whose coffee wasn’t made as he expected, she apologised profusely and set to work making another one; this time with soy milk and not gluten-free almond milk.

The rest of her shift went by quickly, she had time to sit down with her own custom-made coffee and chat to the owner during the quiet periods. Business only picked up in the evening rush hour when many a businessmen tired from work ordered a double espresso to go and the college students weary from lectures ordered a pumpkin spiced latte or a soothing hot chocolate. Yasmin enjoyed those orders, each coffee with a personalisation list as long as your arm, if it weren’t for her customer-service position, Yasmin would usually scoff at these people. The hipster kids thought themselves to be the next controversial artist, painting their feelings and political statements on mysterious subway walls and provoking other like-minded buffoons into thinking the same things.

The owner congratulated Yasmin on a successful first day, singing her praises at how well she counted the register at the end of the shift and kept meticulous notes of any discrepancies she found. Wrapped up in her scarf and apron folded neatly in her backpack, Yasmin strolled down the street to her building and decided to treat herself with a freshly made takeout of Chinese dumplings and noodles. She hurried up the stairs, excited to taste her oriental delights. As soon as her foot hit the landing, Yasmin’s mask dropped from her face. 

The location provoked memories from earlier in the day – the mysterious woman whom she vowed to accept and to like because having friends was the most important thing to her and any friend of Elliot’s is a friend of hers if they allow her to be. She remembered the confused look on Elliot’s face, Yasmin was sure she saw some form of hurt flash into his eyes for a second and that in turn made her feel terrible – there wasn’t a part of Yasmin that wanted to hurt Elliot, give him a taste of his own medicine maybe, but not hurt him. She had to remember that Elliot didn’t know about her encounter with the runway model-like visitor on the landing, and who is to say that she was Elliot’s girlfriend? She was wiping her mouth wasn’t she? From a kiss, from a make out session, from a- Yasmin wouldn’t allow herself to sink that low. Yasmin fiddled with her keys, tears filling her eyes followed by immediate anger at how stupid she was being. She was nothing to Elliot, there was nothing between them. Yasmin hoped for a friendship and that’s exactly what she should focus on – not some misunderstood flirting or unrequited attraction on her part.

Yasmin fanned her face with her hands and strode confidently over to her door – she must have been stood at the top of the stairs for a good couple of minutes, the security guard watching the CCTV cameras must have thought she was crazy. She opened her door, put her food in the microwave to keep warm whilst she took a quick shower and changed into some jogging bottoms and her favourite comfy t-shirt – stolen from her best friend back in Alaska.

She ate her still-warm food and moaned at how good it tasted. Slurping noodles up with a fork – not chopsticks – she logged onto her Facebook page and clicked on the “add a workplace” button to update her followers and friends on her new job. She entered the name of the coffee shop and easily found it – independent businesses were usually the ones with quirky names like ‘bean busy’ or ‘it's a macchiato to meet you’, she clicked the ‘confirm’ button and felt very proud of herself. Yasmin flicked through the other parts of her profile and dropped her fork into the takeout container. Under the section titled ‘details about you’, subsection ‘favourite quotes’ was something she didn’t remember writing: one simple word comprised of two letters.

“Hi.”


	7. Overclocked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit longer. I mean no offence to Alaskans - I'm sure you guys are lovely, Elliot just likes to make jokes about you :P

When Yasmin went to bed that night – Chinese takeaway forgotten, she felt uneasy. Yasmin had decided to roll with Elliot’s prompt, she didn’t know how long the message had been there – she hoped not long, she didn’t want to seem like she was ignoring him. She recognised the narcissist in Elliot – blatantly showing off his hacking skills yet in such a simple and discreet way so as not to spook her, for some reason, she knew he would leave his mark intentionally or unintentionally. Yasmin liked that; being confident was sexy and being confident and not showing it was even sexier to her. Previous experience showed that those confident in private were the kindest of people, they went out of their way to help others and use their talents to the best of their abilities. Being confident and cocky in public led to the person being a complete dick; a loudmouth jock or a blonde, leggy sorority girl and not someone with whom Yasmin wanted to associate. Elliot was her type of person, even if he didn’t feel the same way.

The uneasiness spread through her as she thought over her response to him, just a simple ‘hi how’re you?’ Would this be how they spoke now? Why didn’t Elliot just ask for her number? Surely hacking into someone’s account and hiding their true location by bouncing the signal through servers around the world would take a lot more effort than passing notes underneath doors or texting each other or simply knocking on the others door and having a chat – especially seen as though she lived next to him. Yasmin sighed and turned over, the light from the street below filtering through in an orange haze, the steam from the pipes underneath the street distorting the light and forming shadows on her bedroom wall and floor. Yasmin watched as they danced, hoping to hear some movement next door. She had figured out when she was in his apartment that her bed backed onto his kitchen; microwave where her nightstand and lamp were. She strained her ears, listening for anything she could grasp onto; a scratch of Flipper’s claws, footsteps, breathing, anything – Yasmin heard nothing, in fact, her breathing was the only thing that she heard. Beating herself up over how stupid she was and berating herself led to a fitful and restless sleep.

\--

She awoke later than usual but still before nine according to her phone. Her dreams were dark clouds in front of what she truly wanted to see, black crows cawing and dead trees in the wilderness – not one of her usual dreams, not even for a nightmare. She unlocked her phone and checked her Facebook quotes – no change, still her response sat in the box, as bold as day. She tapped the wall experimentally and heard no resonance whatsoever, Yasmin threw her arm over her head and sighed deeply.

Starting her day with a coffee and a granola bar were her ritual, Spotify on shuffle and scrolling her favourite sites. She sipped her coffee and perched it on her knee when she wasn’t. The granola bar would lay forgotten until she caught a glimpse of it, taking a bite, chewing and placing it back where it was, only to be forgotten again for another few minutes. Although her morning routine never changed, in the back of her mind since Elliot’s hack, she watched out for anything different: a time zone change, new Twitter follower, a suggested Pinterest board; but alas she saw nothing.

Yasmin changed into her work uniform with a dull ache sat in her stomach. She felt heavy with worry and burden – one that she had created for herself. The walk to work was numbing and it gave her time to prepare the carefree and happy mask she adopted for those 8 hours of her day. Entering the coffee shop comforted the ache inside her, she smelled the fresh coffee and baked goods and got to work.

\--

The same rush of people came and left the shop in waves – morning elevenses, lunchtime sandwich-buyers, schools out juice boxes and finally businessmen espressos and college students pumpkin spice. It was the same routine every day and Yasmin loved the predictability of it; she could move the best looking sandwiches to the front of the fridge, strategically place colourful baked goods at eye height for children and line up the espresso cups-to-go. Yasmin found comfort in the routine, especially on those days where she didn’t feel like putting in any extra effort – the job was a simple series of tasks to complete. However it was also a job that she could throw her all into, make customers days special when she felt the urge to and pay extra attention to the designs made on coffees with foam; Yasmin liked this job.

At the end of her shift, she put the last chair on the table, stored away the brush from sweeping the floor and said goodbye to Paul, the owner and his son, Nick. She slung her bag over her back and exited the cafe, twining her scarf around her neck and lower face to shield her from the wind. From out of the shadows across the street approached Elliot, his face betrayed how cold he was feeling – Yasmin felt a twang of regret knowing he had waited for her. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his fists clearly trying their best not to shiver. He gave her a small smile and acknowledged her with his chin like he always did; too cold to adjust his hair given the weather. They fell into a silent walk, Yasmin didn’t question why he was there and Elliot didn’t offer her any explanation.

“I’m going to go for a beer, you coming?” Yasmin stopped mid-step and asked Elliot. He shrugged and even though she knew it wasn’t exactly his scene, he followed her anyway. The bar was two blocks away and silence fell over their commute.

Yasmin pushed the door to the bar open and loosened her scarf from around her neck. Quiet jazz was playing through the bar and only a few patrons were partaking in a drink or two. The barman looked up upon hearing the door open and Yasmin signalled for two beers to be brought over to them in a corner booth. She slid over on the leather seat, and unburdened herself of her hoodie, backpack and scarf. Elliot did similarly and pushed down his hood, ruffling his flattened hair – another sign of his slight narcissistic tendencies, even if it was also a nervous tick of his. Yasmin smiled kindly at him and took in his face, since the attractive girl left his apartment wiping her mouth, the image of Elliot she had in her head had been tainted – now she could see him for what she should have remembered him by; a reserved-when-he-wants-to-be, shy-smile-giving, kind, generous and playful guy whom she happened to have the great fortune of getting to know. 

Elliot shifted under Yasmin’s stare of pure, unadulterated desire and reverie, clearly feeling quite uncomfortable to be in the spotlight. He fiddled with his beer bottle, taking a swig and shivering at the cool liquid running down his throat – Yasmin stared at his throat. The way his Adam’s apple moved up and down, the muscles contracting and even the small freckles either side of his larynx fascinated her. She imagined the columned structure was smooth and soft, yet bony and hard in places; one day she wanted to find out where the soft ended and the tough started.

“Have you been here before?” he questioned her, clearly not enjoying the silence between them. Yasmin shook her head and told him a customer had mentioned it was a good place to go. Elliot nodded in understanding and looked into her eyes; his wide, green doe eyes that melted Yasmin’s icy heart, she was quickly forgetting the image of a careless, selfish and playboy version of Elliot, replacing it with the Adonis sat in front of her, who in her eyes at the moment, could do no wrong.

“I saw your girlfriend leaving this morning,” she stated, there was no question included and she purposefully used a level tone with no hints of accusation or jealousy. Elliot tilted his head to one side and narrowed his eyes slightly. 

“Girlfriend…?”

“Tall, brunette, pouty lips, heeled pumps…”

Elliot smirked casually and slumped in his seat, fiddling with the label on the bottle. Yasmin gulped, she knew what that meant and she was hurt – really hurt. All of the pain and jealousy she held throughout the day was confirmed.

“Darlene isn’t my girlfriend, Yasmin. She’s my sister.” He made eye contact with her again and his jaw muscles contracted and loosened as he waited for her response. Yasmin couldn’t lie, she immediately felt great relief flood through her added by a lot of embarrassment at her jealousy and naivety. She tried to not let it show on her face, although she was pretty sure Elliot saw it anyway; he seemed to be great at reading people from her previous experience. He turned his smirk into a small smile and motioned for two more beers to be brought over. Yasmin’s posture immediately improved; she straightened her back, shook out her hair and pulled it over one shoulder and took a long drink of her beer. Elliot watched her drink; the way her lips curled around the mouth of the bottle, how her hands arced with the curve of the glass and the way her hair fell naturally. She placed the bottle back on the table and quietly burped into her hand, blushing and apologising for her crass behaviour. Elliot shrugged and ran his hand through his hair and scratched the side of his head. He moved onto his second beer and held it to Yasmin to toast, she too lifted her bottle and clinked it against his, a grin spreading across her face.

The tension between the two of them dissipated and they continued to drink together, joking and laughing at stories they told; mostly from Yasmin’s end. Her nervousness had subsided and with alcohol she became chattier and giggled a lot more – Elliot didn’t mind. Her smile was what he remembered about Yasmin when he thought of her in the times he did, which was often enough for him to want to see her smile more and more, especially if he was the one responsible for its appearance.

At one point in their evening, Yasmin scooted over to sit by Elliot, showing him a picture from one of the stories she was telling. He smiled at her, listening intently and slung his arm around her shoulders, relaxing to her voice and the excitement in the story’s details. Yasmin didn’t move back to her original seat, instead she sank into his loose embrace and continued to tell him stories of the restaurant back in Alaska, times when things were easier if a little more restricted. She spoke about her family and friends, nothing that he hadn’t gotten off her Facebook but he always enjoyed the contextualised stories and history that came with the people. He figured out that Yasmin used her hands to talk, constantly gesticulating her tales with her hands and punctuating the punchlines with sharp movements. Elliot mused to himself that Yasmin was definitely too small for Alaska – she was much more suited to NYC life, and the NYC life seemed to be suiting her as well which made him happy, knowing that she would not be leaving any time soon due to being homesick.

Yasmin was on her seventh…or was it eighth beer, anyway it didn’t matter, she was quite happy sat next to Elliot, their thighs barely touched but his hand was definitely on her shoulder which made her very excited. Most of her smiles and giggles were down to the close proximity to him, his muskiness and lime filled her nostrils and she unabashedly revelled in it. She took a drink of her beer and clinked it with his, giggling to herself. She saw a smile sit on his mouth and she in turn smiled wider.

“Darlene is very pretty, are you sure she’s not your girlfriend because I’d tap that.” Elliot laughed heartily, his chest bumping her cheek with each round of laughter. 

“I’m pretty positive she isn’t. I’m not into that incest shit like you Alaskans!” he teased back at Yasmin. She gasped and elbowed him in the ribs gently, followed by lots of giggling on her part. “Anyway, if she was my girlfriend, would I be able to do this?”

Yasmin looked up at him curiously and felt his fingertips touch the skin of her neck, she felt electricity underneath each pad and her eyes went wide. In her drunken vision she saw him look down at her, lick his lips gently and cup her cheek as his mouth touched hers in slow motion. Yasmin gasped at the contact, mewling slightly with how good it felt; her thoughts fell apart, her skin tingled and electricity raced through every part of her skin that connected with his. His arm around her shoulders pulled her closer to him and he stroked the bare skin at her hip. Yasmin pushed herself closer to Elliot and gently sought out his neck with her fingertips. They parted and Yasmin felt his breath on her face for the second time before he recaptured her lips in a less gentle fashion than their first tentative kiss. Yasmin stroked his hairline and once she was sure he didn’t mind her touch, held the back of his head and used her leverage to intensify their kiss. Yasmin wasn’t sure how this had happened but frankly she didn’t care either, his mouth was expertly stimulating her own and his tongue languidly stroked hers in a lazy dance.

When Elliot pulled back from their kiss, his breathing was laboured and his lips were swollen with her kisses. He opened his eyes and Yasmin saw the gentle green had transformed into an electric emerald colour, she bit her lip and trailed her hand gently down his neck, making him shiver and his eyes close of their own accord. 

“I guess you don’t have a girlfriend then…” she teased in a whisper, their close proximity making the volume not a problem. He smirked back at her and pecked her lips once more before sitting up and taking another drink of his beer. Now Yasmin had quenched her thirst for him and quietened her curiosities about how his kisses would feel and how soft his neck was, she just wanted more. She pulled back from their passionate exchange and took a drink, finishing her beer and taking in her surroundings. Elliot and Yasmin were the only people left in the bar, the barman was drying glasses with a tea towel and he had a smile plastered on his face; he’d clearly been witness to their first kiss, however sloppy and inelegant it may have been. Yasmin blushed profusely and hid her face behind her hair, busying herself with collecting her backpack, hoodie and scarf. Elliot threw some money on the table and stood up from the booth and stretched – Yasmin watched with intense delight as his t-shirt rode up and revealed the slice of skin above his waistband, she bit her lip and wound her scarf around her neck.

They made the short journey home through the icy wind of New York’s approaching winter until they reached their building. Elliot held the door open for Yasmin again and like before, she took the stairs two at a time ahead of him; Elliot was enjoying the view from his slow steps up to their landing. When Elliot finished climbing the stairs, Yasmin was leaning nonchalantly against her door, twirling her keys around her finger _a la Elliot_. He smirked at her and taking measured steps he pinned her to the door with his hips before slowly and teasingly lowering his head to hers. Yasmin held her breath and her heart beat out through her breast as his lips once more touched hers in a soft kiss. He pulled back after one peck and she pouted at him, furrowing her brow. He chuckled at her expression and kissed her forehead.

“I’ve got to take Flipper out, I’ll see you tomorrow, kay?” he muttered, his words slurred from alcohol. Yasmin nodded, biting her bottom lip at him and he growled quietly before stealing another kiss. Yasmin grinned brightly and unlocked her door after several attempts. A couple of minutes in her apartment passed by before she heard his measured footsteps and Flipper’s hurried legs run down the stairs.

Yasmin poured herself a glass of water and made sure to drink the entire thing before sleeping. She collapsed on her bed and pushed herself out of her clothes and into her pyjamas, throwing the dirty items somewhere in the close vicinity. Her head was filled with nothing but Elliot: Elliot’s smell, Elliot’s voice, Elliot’s laughter, Elliot’s kisses, Elliot’s taste and Elliot’s stare. She fished her phone out and checked her Facebook quotes.

“Better now I’ve seen you ;)”


	8. Gateway Timeout

The sun peeked its way above the horizon and with the first glints of sunlight, Yasmin was awake and stretched her stiff limbs in bed. She had slept like the dead and it was the first time she had not had a dream since moving to the city which was unusual for her. She pondered her dreamless sleep and a memory from last night hit her like a freight train. She sat up and gasped, looking around her bed and seeing her clothes strewn everywhere, she grabbed her hoodie and brought it to her nose; sure enough men’s body wash, musk and lime were lingering to the fibres. 

“Oh shit…what have I done?!” she thought out loud. She reached for her phone and saw no new notifications, next she checked her Facebook. She remembered reading that new comment last night, and she quickly scribbled back a reply. ‘Do you really mean that, now?’ Yasmin press ‘confirm’ on the profile change and skulked into the bathroom to get ready for work but not before watching more reality television programmes on Netflix and completing her morning routine.

Yasmin climbed out of the shower and wrapped her hair in a towel and applied some moisturiser to her dry skin. She looked at herself in the mirror; hazel eyes twinkling back at her as if they knew something she didn’t, or at least they were remembering something that Yasmin wasn’t quite ready to do. She shyly smiled back at herself and pouted her lips, they weren’t particularly plump lips, but just knowing Elliot had been there was enough for her. The more she recalled the previous evening, the more she languished in her fantasy of ‘happily ever after’ that had plagued her mind since she was a child after watching Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty. Yasmin loved the idea of being a princess, swept off her feet by her Prince Charming; her first and only love. When she really thought about it, that’s probably another reason that she decided not to date in Alaska; she didn’t want her be all and end all to be in Alaska, she wanted to see more of the world, and more of its inhabitants than the barren, snow stricken landscape of her town.

When she returned to her bed, she couldn’t help checking her Facebook to see if he had replied, sure enough, bold as the black letters on her screen, read ‘I can’t wait to see more of you’. Yasmin swooned quietly and blushed at her phone. She left the words sat on her page and pulled on her work uniform quickly and tugged her hair into a ponytail.

She arrived at the cafe at opening time, the chairs still on the tables, Paul was unwrapping a scarf from around his neck and Nick, his son, was setting up his laptop. Yasmin found Nick a bit…odd. He came to the coffee shop every day, sat in the same seat and did nothing but drink hazelnut lattes and type away at his laptop – Yasmin quietly thought that maybe he had a condition, like Asperger’s where people with the syndrome liked routine and did not cope well with change. She threw him a slight wave and a nod and his head disappeared behind his screen again, _so much for hello then_ , she thought to herself. She smiled warmly at Paul and made general chitchat with him, setting up the cafe for the daily rush of customers.

\--

At lunchtime along with the businessmen with their pastrami and mustard sandwiches came Elliot. Yasmin grinned brightly at him and he offered a nod in return, like the perfect barista she was, Yasmin recited her dialogue and he placed his order with her. She felt like something was out of place, something not quite right with Elliot; his demeanour felt like they just met yesterday, when Yasmin bumped into him on their staircase and first noticed the way his eyes followed every movement she made. Yasmin’s smile faltered as she prepared his coffee to go, she wrote his name extra carefully on his cup and even drew a line underneath it. She thought about adding a smiley face but deemed that was too intimate for this setting; she was serving a client, Elliot was nothing more than a client – she repeated this to herself like a mantra. Elliot jerked his chin as an acknowledgement when Yasmin placed his cup down, turning his name to face him, and swiftly left the shop. 

What had happened? Had Elliot not meant what he had written on her Facebook? Did last night mean nothing to him?! Yasmin took a deep breath and faced the back wall of the shop as a customer hollered at her that he had to leave quickly and for her to get a move on. When she turned back around, her mask was put back in place, except the elastic tie at one side was fraying, unravelling towards the knot that held it firm.

Yasmin’s day had transformed from one of her special days where she added extra chocolate to the top of cappuccinos and sliced sandwiches into triangles to one of a robot-waitress. She said her piece to each customer, she gave them a fake smile that she hoped looked real and she made up their ridiculous coffee orders, just as they liked without a hitch. Yasmin couldn’t care less about this day anymore, she wanted to go home as soon as possible and she did just that at seven in the evening when the shop closed. Paul noticed a change in Yasmin’s bubbly character and asked if she was alright, she made up an excuse about a headache and hurried out the door as quickly as possible. 

She took the steps one by one when she entered their- her building, she corrected herself. Upon reaching her landing she looked longingly at his door. 4E hadn’t changed since she left that morning, she heard the scamper of tiny paws inside the flat; Flipper must have been chasing her tail again. She padded over to her door, head down and awkwardly fiddling with her keys. She pushed the key into the lock and turned back to Elliot’s door. Yasmin thought about what she had done to deserve being ignored in the coffee shop, why shouldn’t she find out what happened? Yasmin deserved to know! She wasn’t going to be used by some kid, only to find out he didn’t really mean what he said and none of their time spent together was special to him! Yasmin took a deep breath and rapped her fist on the door; Flipper barked loudly from inside and jumped up on the other side, her claws making soft clicking noises. After 30 seconds, Yasmin received no response from inside, she knocked again, shouting Elliot’s name. Another 30 seconds passed with no response. Yasmin was really angry by this point, with a final kick to the door she gave up and resolved to have it out with him when he could stand up and be a man.

Yasmin went to bed that night angry with him, she didn’t check her Facebook again. She didn’t want to hear from him unless it was in person – she wasn’t going to be tricked by simple Facebook hacks – Yasmin deserved real answers from real people. She tossed and turned until the early hours when finally she fell into a broken sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter today guys. I spent a lot of time figuring out the order of future events and so, a bit of a filler chapter. Thanks for reading and making this fiction reach 100 hits! I appreciate all of it.


	9. DDoS

The morning after the night before was no better; Yasmin ‘woke up on the wrong side of bed’ some may say. She stared down a hole where a screw once sat in the ceiling, if the hole was a living being, it wouldn’t be living anymore. Yasmin had a scowl on her face and to make it worse, it was her day off. She felt for her phone and held it above her face, narrowly managing to shift her head when she accidentally dropped it; the phone nicked her ear. She let out a giggle to herself and sat up, maybe lying down and typing wasn’t the best thing. Her Facebook was quite ordinary – nothing out of place, however when she checked her Twitter, low and behold, her current location had changed back to her town in Alaska; Yasmin frowned. So this was how he was going to play it? Adding little notes for her to read on her Facebook in hidden places was cute, endearing even but changing something so visible, when her followers consisted of family and friends was not funny – she immediately changed her password and jumped in the shower.

Yasmin treated herself with breakfast at the coffee shop. Some might suggest she would be sick of the place when she worked there whereas for Yasmin, it was entirely the opposite. There had been many a time when she did not let her mask slip even faced with someone she found attractive. In her rarely-used pocket of her backpack were receipts, business cards and scraps of paper with phone numbers hastily written or an email circled here and there next to a name. Upon being slipped them Yasmin shoved them away without any acknowledgement of the transaction ever happening. Yasmin pulled out the papers and browsed through them one by one, trying to put a name to a face and discarding those of the lecherous old men who stared at her breasts as she bent over to retrieve their sandwiches from the refrigerator. She fingered through the pile once more before storing away the numbers for a rainy day and taking another long sip of her coffee and a bite of her breakfast panini. 

Yasmin sat back in the deep armchair, opened her book at the marked page and began reading once more; allowing herself to be swallowed and engulfed by the characters, setting and story. Since a young age, Yasmin found books to be a whole-body escape from the world around her. Her favourite books were those part of a series, especially those which created worlds that were far different from her own. She was especially interested in mythical creatures and their relationships with humans; much like Sleeping Beauty with Flora, Fauna and Merryweather. Yasmin imagined worlds with cavernous gorges into which ghostly steam fell, as if a waterfall off the top of a cliff. She took solace in houses, dens and burrows hidden in the landscape – her favourite being treehouses and how they offered a brilliant vantage point to watch the other-worldly creatures. The particular book that she was reading was what would be described as a ‘page-turner’ by critics, and considering Yasmin had only been reading it for a night previously and that she was more than half-way through, the description would appear accurate.

\--

Yasmin emerged from her book at midday and stretched her legs out from underneath her. She decided to take a walk around to the park nearby to clear her head and partake in some more people-watching. She arrived at the park and passed through the wrought-iron gates that creaked when moved like old wooden stairs complaining under the weight of heavy footfall. She wiped her hands on her jeans and proceeded to find a bench near the outer wall, her view of the small duck pond, playground and bicycle track unimpeded. 

Yasmin took in the vision of New York changing seasons. The leaves stuck to the pavement were wrinkled, damp and a dull brown colour stuck as children, adults and all others in between trod on them throughout the day. As the seasons changed, the days grew shorter and the nights got colder, the duck pond slowly transformed into a greyscale painting, weathered by the battering winds and intermittent rain, fuelled by the freezing and melting of snow as winter set in. The day Yasmin decided to visit the park was a dull one; grey clouds littered the otherwise white sky, a constant wind blew through the city, as if someone had left a window open on the east coast. Yasmin liked nature, she liked to watch it change, observe its reactions to the seasons and also to watch how nature and the environment influenced people; their behaviours, tendencies and moods.

Yasmin breathed in deeply through her nose and blew out a warm stream of air from her mouth. She felt the cold air tingling the inside of her nostrils, filling her lungs and exiting back up her oesophagus, leaving a cloudy trail in its wake. Her hands were tucked away in her winter coat, the temperature was not low enough to deem gloves a necessity but Yasmin hardly ever left home outside of summer without her scarf. The scarf was a thick, knitted, icy blue infinity design, handmade by her aunt, given to Yasmin at Christmas time several years ago. It had been repaired a few times after getting caught on coat buttons and in zips of snowsuits. Yasmin tucked it into her coat where a bit had slipped out on her walk, she took another deep breath and watched the world pass by.

Out of the corner of her eye she noted someone approaching her way with measured steps; who looked like they knew where they were going and exactly how many steps it would take to get there. Yasmin immediately matched the specific gait to one with which she was quite familiar. Turning her head, she noted Elliot’s eyes snapping back onto his desired path. His footsteps quickened minutely but enough for Yasmin to note and frown at. She shouted his name yet Elliot carried on, his hands stuffed deep into his hoodie pockets and so Yasmin jumped up and pursued him. 

“Elliot, what the hell…” she shouted at him, his head whipped round and Yasmin noted his eyes were surrounded by reddened areas, his pupils blown wide, hardly any green visible. She frowned, taking in his shabby appearance, the way his jeans were beginning to fray at the bottom and how one of the compartments on his backpack was fully open – very un-Elliot, Yasmin thought to herself. She followed him back to their building and took the stairs two at a time; she knew he wouldn’t. At the top of the stairs she stood in the middle of the corridor, blocking his path. Elliot stopped in front of her about a metre away, even at that Yasmin felt hurt, he clearly didn’t trust her anymore for some reason.

“Elliot, what is happening? You’re not even talking to me. Are you okay?” Yasmin’s words fell out of her mouth as she took in his appearance; his tightly clenched fists were shaking slightly, almost trembling like Elliot couldn’t control it. His jeans were dirty, the black fabric stained with several marks that were never there – Elliot might not have worn anything but black but he was never unkempt on purpose. When Yasmin looked into his eyes, he tilted his head down and tried to push past her without touching her. Yasmin shouted in protest, asking what he was doing. She reached out to touch him and Elliot recoiled, making a noise as if her reaching out for him hurt physically; Yasmin felt cold at his reaction.

“Elliot! Fuck, just fucking talk to me! What the hell is wrong?! Why are your eyes red? Please let me help you, you’re scaring me!” Yasmin became progressively quieter as she approached the end of the sentence, tears springing to her eyes – she blinked hard. Elliot’s face was a mixture of scared, confused and pained. He clenched his jaw and seemed to curl in on himself, as if to hide away from Yasmin, the world and everyone else. “Please…Elliot I-I care about you, do you need me to take Flipper out for you? What can I do?”

“Will you shut up already?!” Elliot barked at her, his pent up silence bursting out of him with so much energy that Yasmin shed a tear quietly in surprise. “Leave me alone, Yasmin! You can’t do anything! Just leave me!” With those final words he pushed past her, putting his fear of human contact aside and Yasmin stumbled backwards, her back hitting the bannister. Her mouth was agape as she watched him burst into his apartment and lock the door quickly; through the gap in the door she saw Flipper wagging her tail at Elliot and all of the curtains drawn as the apartment was filled with darkness.

Yasmin numbly unlocked her own door and sat on her sofa, immediately tears rolled down her cheeks and she heaved in breaths as inexplicable sounds were pushed from her throat. Yasmin had never seen this side of Elliot – a disconnected Elliot but never cold. She could see from the few interactions he had with other people that he was never cruel to someone on purpose, his social anxiety maybe made his words harsher than he meant them to be but Elliot was not an evil person. However his previous behaviour made Yasmin’s heart crack and her head pound in her skull. Although his eyes were mainly filled with dilated pupils, the little ring of green visible was pale against the sheer black in the centre. Yasmin felt scared looking into those soulless eyes knowing that he was making a conscious effort to be cruel to her, what had happened with him? She asked herself, constantly wondering what she had done. Has she triggered a past behaviour or habit of his? Maybe he truly regretting the progression of their relationship, if she could even continue to refer to what was between them as a relationship or even friendship. 

Yasmin’s inner turmoil nearly made her forget about the harsh red rings lining his eyes, they were deep set and made him look physically ill. She remembered the picture on his AllSafe staff ID where his eyes were sunken into his face and his hair was longer however his current appearance compared to that one was severely worse. His cheeks looked skeletal, and Yasmin absently wondered if just because he clearly wasn’t feeding himself, he was at least still feeding Flipper. The way he spat out his words towards Yasmin was what truly upset her; she didn’t know what had happened for this reaction to have occurred and he refused to let her in. It frustrated her that he wouldn’t but then again, he probably didn’t trust her enough to do so. She wondered if he had anyone to confide in…his sister maybe? Maybe Yasmin could get in contact with her? 

The tears continued to roll down her cheeks and she heard furious knocking at her door, she took small quiet steps and quietened down her sobs into a small whimper. She peeked out of the spyhole and saw someone she didn’t recognise, after a minute or so of looking up and down at her door, he moved onto Elliot’s and hammered equally as hard, causing Flipper to start barking – he too received no answer from Elliot. 

Yasmin curled up on her bed with her phone tucked under pillow. She hoped Elliot would post on Facebook to her again or maybe text her – he must have found her mobile number linked to her Facebook if he managed to access all of her social media accounts. She cried quietly into her pillow and napped for an hour or so before she woke up to crying that wasn’t her own. The cries were produced from a deeper voice and she heard banging on a wall near her head. Yasmin presumed it was Elliot. She reached her hand out to the wall and stroked the brickwork softly, hoping by some miracle, that Elliot saw she was trying to be there for him, trying to show him that she was someone who cared about him. Yasmin fell asleep again and woke when the street lights glowed orange outside and the moon was high in the sky – checking her phone she saw it read 1:34. The banging and crying had stopped, replaced by the soft sounds made by the refrigerator and the streets below.

Yasmin pushed off her clothes and wrapped herself up in the duvet, smelling the slightly citrus residue on her pillow and fell into a deep and dark sleep filled with crying and wails directed at her from all directions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me a lot longer to write. I don't think my brain likes writing sad things. Thank you for the continued support all readers :)


	10. Reboot

Yasmin typed away furiously at her laptop, in a word processing document she opened up only half an hour ago yet had already managed to write over two thousand words. Her glasses were gradually sliding down her nose and she had to push them back up every once in a while, she barely stopped typing during the half an hour and hadn’t even pressed ‘save’ once. It had no title, no form and no particular end; Yasmin just wrote her feelings onto a page. She didn’t believe in journals; she believed in freeing ones emotions and then letting go of them; to not forget them but to not dwell on them any longer. Yasmin saw no need in keeping her and Elliot’s altercation in mind for the time being.

Finally after forty-five minutes of typing her word count totalled 2,861 and Yasmin’s cursor hovered over the button to close the document. She clicked it and a dialog box popped up prompting her with the option to save the document or not. Yasmin paused; she would regularly write her feelings on a document and immediately delete it, feeling the emotion lessen as she typed each word – a truly cathartic process. There was no need to save the document yet she found herself clicking the option to save the emotional garbage, she left it as the default name and shut her laptop and pushed her hair back from her face. She had never saved a document before. Yasmin secretly hoped he read it; hacked her entire computer, mirrored her screen, software and documents and then read it. She hoped he saw how much pain he had caused her. How, even though she had only been in his life for a few weeks now, she had become attached to him – not just as a neighbour but in a way that she felt a connection with him in her very being. She knew that whilst she had been in his life, he had been fine. Yasmin didn’t know about before the time she lived in 4D but right now, she knew that being a part of Elliot’s life was not a negative thing for him. She hoped that he read her garbled thoughts, poor punctuation and overly explicit swearing and maybe smiled at some of the more creative words. She needed him to know how she felt and if he wasn’t going to verbally talk to her, this would have to do; she didn’t just feel hurt by him, she felt hurt for him. She saw the way his eyes were pained when he looked at her in the few moments he did. She saw how he fought not look at her, she hoped that was because if he did for too long, he might have cracked. Yasmin noticed how his eyes held a tightness that she usually saw around his mouth – the muscle tension which made him look like he was in pain; that is what pain she felt for him. 

Yasmin’s only explanation as to why she felt protective of Elliot was that it harked back to the second time they met, when he didn’t even flinch at Yasmin’s proffered hand; like his normal reaction to an outstretched hand was to ignore it. From that simple lack of reciprocation Yasmin identified an insecurity. Since that time, Yasmin was overly aware of his aversion to being touched. She had decided to figure out what type of physical contact was allowed; he often would nudge people or touch them to get their attention and so she experimented with this boundary, noticing he didn’t flinch when they were having fun and she elbowed him in the ribs. When Elliot was happy, his insecurity seemed to lessen slightly. When they kissed his aversion dissipated into nothing; the way his hands sought out every bit of skin he could touch like he needed the contact to know that it was truly happening; to ground him. The contact between them made Yasmin’s skin tingle and his touch felt like electricity; maybe he felt it too. Yasmin longed to feel that again, the rush from skin-on-skin contact with the right person was a sensation she had read of on those mushy websites that gave out advice on how to know who your true love was; a part of Yasmin believed in some of those clichés. There was a doubt in her mind that said too much of a good thing can be bad; maybe that’s what had happened to Elliot the morning after their passionate exchange: sensory overload.

Yasmin picked up her laptop again and paused with her hand on the lid. Maybe Elliot wouldn’t be able to find the document, she thought about renaming it to something obvious like ‘READ ME’ and placing it on the centre of her desktop and changing her background to a series of arrows pointing to the icon. Yasmin sighed and placed her laptop back onto the coffee table; berating herself for being attention-seeking and stupid. She decided a hot shower and a walk was needed to clear her mind and she did exactly that.

At lunchtime she stopped at a deli and grabbed supplies for a sandwich, also going into a convenience store after she remembered some more things she was in need of – Yasmin reminded herself that a full grocery shop was in order but resolved to do that another day when she could be bothered. Her trip out was uneventful; she saw no one of interest, nothing happened except an exorbitant amount of money left her account via her debit card. Upon reaching her landing with the several bags of shopping, she paused and put them on the ground and caught her breath. She looked up at their red doors stood side by side like brothers; twins except for the different letter on each. Yasmin imagined Elliot opening his door after seeing her through the spyhole and standing stock still in the doorway. Maybe it was wrong, but all that Yasmin wanted to see on his face as he stood in his doorway was a broken Elliot – willing for Yasmin to help fix him up again, she couldn’t bear the thought that behind the red door lay an Elliot exhausted from crying, panicky from what he was facing in his head and hurting. She longed to see him like he was two days ago: happy, relaxed and fully connected to her on an emotional level.

Yasmin tore herself from her negative thoughts and unpacked her shopping and stored it away in her cupboards. She sat on the sofa and stared at the wall above her bed, the sounds of Elliot pounding his head against the wall resonating through her brain. Yasmin tried to ignore her imagination and grabbed a beer from the fridge; she needed to stop thinking about him, she needed to accept that he didn’t want her help, not now, and maybe not ever. Elliot. Didn’t. Need. Yasmin.

She drank deeply and quickly, allowing the alcohol to sink into her bloodstream; she felt it heavy in her stomach. The sun was setting on a quiet wintery evening in New York and hues of autumn colours painted the apartment walls in front of Yasmin’s eyes. She leaned back against the sofa and took another sip of her beer. An idea sparked, appeared from nowhere and Yasmin jumped up from the sofa.

\--

Loud dance music was pounding through Yasmin’s head, her body was vibrating with each thump of the bassline and she danced along to the music rhythmically, her head thrown back onto the guy’s shoulder stood behind her. His hand was on her waist, dangerously close to being inappropriate but Yasmin didn’t care. She grinded against him and downed the rest of the liquid in her flimsy plastic cup; tossing it onto the floor when she was finished. She allowed the music to consume her and shook out her hair. The next thing she knew, she felt a pair of cold lips on her neck, just above her pulse point, she tilted her head to the side and he continued to place kisses on her soft skin; Yasmin felt weaker all of a sudden.

The dance music transformed to a slower song to which the man behind Yasmin turned her around to face him and leaned into her. Yasmin smirked and closed the distance between them pressing her lips to his. Almost immediately he pushed his tongue into her mouth and Yasmin went along with it; the alcohol dulling her responses. She felt nothing with man, there was no tingling where he touched her, no electricity and no emotion whatsoever. In her alcohol-ridden state Elliot’s broken face appeared on the inside of her eyelids, she growled in frustration and kissed the man harder; he tasted of liquorice and Yasmin hated it. His teeth clacked against hers and his hands touched her inappropriately; her breasts being squeezed and one hand in between her legs, roughly trying to stimulate her through her jeans. Yasmin groaned and the man reacted to her, thinking she was responding to his touch whereas she in fact was annoyed that she couldn’t stop thinking of Elliot.

She pulled back from the man and caught his hand, tugging it as she weaved her way to the entrance of the club. She quickly checked her pockets for her keys, money and phone and hailed a cab; all the while being felt by the mystery man, he was called Chad…or was it Mike…Brian? It didn’t matter, all Yasmin remembered was that he sounded like a frat boy, she despised frat boys but she needed to forget and he was the best option. In the cab, he sat as close as humanly possible to her and engulfed her mouth in what could be described euphemistically as a kiss. Yasmin kissed him back and pushed him away when he launched himself at her again; he was way drunker than she was, but they both knew exactly what was happening: she would take him back to her apartment, have quick and meaningless sex with him and kick him out immediately and he would take a cab home. Some may call the behaviour ‘dangerous’, ‘slutty’ or ‘crass’ but Yasmin really didn’t care what people thought of her, what she cared about was someone who didn’t care about her anymore and right in that moment, Yasmin needed someone who cared about her, even if it was only physically.

They arrived at her apartment and she guided him upstairs. He followed her like a lost puppy, their arms linked together like a so-called ‘leash’, whilst Yasmin fumbled for her keys he fell against Elliot’s door. Yasmin’s eyes darted to his position and she knew Elliot would have heard; she didn’t care and pushed her key in the lock and opened the door, she tugged his hand and fell into the apartment with her. 

Yasmin’s brain had stopped working by this point; she wasn’t thinking of anything but the physical sensations she was feeling, both good and bad. She allowed him to climb on top of her and have his way with her, his moans were loud and obnoxious; matching his stereotype and Yasmin pushed against her hands on the brick wall behind her head to gain some leverage in her position underneath him. Her mattress squeaked and groaned underneath their movement and the bed frame banged noisily against the wall. Yasmin closed her eyes and scratched her nails down his back, causing him to shout her name loudly. 

After a messy and uneventful time, he came noisily and praised her body, using disgusting words like ‘tits’, ‘pussy’ and ‘load’. Yasmin simply rolled away from him and walked to the bathroom and locked the door. She took a shower immediately and washed off Chad or whatever his name was. She felt the warmth in between her legs subside and she scrubbed her body twice over, letting the hot water drench her from head to toe. Yasmin leaned back against the cool tiles and sighed, rubbing at a love bite he had left below her collarbone and groaning. Her ears were filled with white noise from the loud music and she let the noise become all that she heard; her brain was empty, she couldn’t remember how she felt earlier in the day, either way it didn’t matter anymore, she would start tomorrow afresh.

When she exited the bathroom, he grabbed her and tried to kiss her on the mouth; Yasmin turned her head away and his lips landed on her neck instead, he groped her through the towel and she suggested he take a shower which is exactly what he did.

Yasmin sat on her bed, shivering slightly and found new pyjamas in her drawer and pulled them on. Her eyes closed and she raked her fingers through her hair, separating the wet strands slightly before brushing the knots out. She could hear him from the bathroom, moaning and saying crude things about how good she was and she had such a fuckable body, he also asked when he could bone her again; Yasmin rolled her eyes and didn't respond, knowing he was probably pleasuring himself once more. She filled a glass with water and downed it, taking two pain pills to quell the impending hangover.

Not ten minutes out of the shower, Yasmin was pushing Chad out the door, she allowed him to kiss her once more before she shut the door in his face and locked it. Yasmin immediately brushed her teeth twice and stripped her bed of its linen. She would rather go to bed later on clean sheets than allow herself to wallow in the sweat and other bodily fluids from tonight. She stuffed all of the dirty items into her laundry bag and placed it by the door to wash tomorrow. Yasmin made sure everything was locked and turned off the lights and climbed into her clean bed, not before moving it away from the wall where there were slight indentations at the same level as the frame.

Yasmin groaned and pulled the comforter over her head. She set her alarm for the morning, turned her phone off silent and onto night-time mode. As she closed her eyes she heard the faint sounds of sobbing followed by a shout that Yasmin felt resonate through her; tears began to roll down her cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism welcome. These chapters aren't nice to think through and write.


	11. Diagnostics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the late update. This is extra-long. I haven't edited it yet and I don't know if this is something even vaguely close to what Elliot would imagine. I've been super busy, tired and stressed with work plus the struggle of writing from a different POV. Constructive criticism and comments always welcome. Enjoy.

She was like Shayla all over again; her beauty hit me from the second time I met her, I say second as the first time her face was veiled by her hair and frankly she was in my way. She had the same fresh-faced attitude that Shayla did, more like naivety when you thought about it. She was a talker like Shayla too; always one to fill the silence when I had nothing to say, I liked that about her. Yasmin had something that drew me to her, it was really difficult to ignore her with her endless optimism and ability to see the best in people, the kind of optimism Angela had until Ollie shit on everything. The most important part about Yasmin to me was her natural ability to keep me sane, off morphine and to laugh; I like laughing, I know I don’t laugh enough but I really like to laugh.

Since meeting this Alaskan home-town girl it feels like I haven’t stopped laughing, even when she’s not there. I can watch TV again and see the funny side of it without reading into Evil Corp’s propaganda, even watching Flipper chew my socks makes me smile; that’s why I like Yasmin. Any person that can make me smile is a good person; a really good person. Do you know what else makes a good person? Someone whose Facebook ‘likes’ include “Weekends in pyjamas and duvet cuddles”, “Having the evidence to destroy someone’s relationship in the form of screenshots” and “Booze, boys and biscuits”.

I haven’t ever met a person who didn’t know how to use chopsticks. That night was perfect. There’s no other way to describe it, her offer to eat food together astounded me. It’s ridiculous really, she was just asking if I wanted takeout and I froze, staring at all of her because I hadn’t actually _seen_ someone in the same way for a long time until she was standing in front of me. Her normality stunned me, she wasn’t wearing heels like Darlene, or wearing any makeup that distorted her face; she was just normal and yet she wanted to hang out with me. I hadn’t said more than ten words to her and here she was, stood on my doorstep in slipper socks with ducks on them, ripped jeans and a blue hoodie with her hair braided down one shoulder and she wanted to eat food with me. I snapped out of my trance when she turned away, immediately pulling out the menus I’d stashed somewhere. 

When I came back from the bathroom, she stared at me. At first I didn’t know what was happening; if I had something on my shirt or maybe a psychopath was stood behind me but then I saw her look up and down and I relaxed, knowing she didn’t require anything from me. Considering physical contact is a rough area for me, I really don't care about people looking and staring – they do it often enough when I'm on the subway, hood pulled up and looking shady as fuck; they think I'm dangerous, they have no idea. I liked the way she looked at me, most people asked questions and expected me to answer. She just stared and assumed what she wanted. Society shouldn’t ask so many questions, we’d all not be so obnoxious and more intuitive if we just looked and guessed at what we saw; I’m glad Yasmin was like me.

Then we spent the night together. Not having sex or doing drugs, but just eating together. Even then it was the most fun I’d had since _that_ time a year ago. I had to feed her just like I fed Flipper; the way she blushed when she realised her unfortunate predicament was cute. I’ve not described anything as cute for a long time but Yasmin made these words appear in my brain. Her duck socks rubbed against my ankles as we sat on the sofa and for once I didn’t flinch; she didn’t mean to and to be honest, I quite liked it. Simple human contact scared the hell out of me, but spontaneous contact was alright I guess. Any sudden contact from her was meaningless, she didn’t hold any expectation of me reciprocating and I liked that; I respected that. 

It was a really great night. I’m not sure if it counted as ‘connecting’ with her but to me it went better than a normal encounter with a person goes. Usually they leave early because I didn’t live up to their expectations whereas Yasmin stuck around and sat through the silences, occasionally asking random questions that were on her mind. I loved having to feed her, she wasn’t boring like everyone else and she didn’t leave to get a fork from her apartment (I’m pretty sure she had one there). It reminded me of when moms feed their kids in shopping malls; tricking the kid into thinking food is a train or some other charade, I tried it and it was really fun. Yasmin had a great smile when she showed it; her eyes lit up, in fact everything about her lit up and it made me feel a warmth inside. She was so easily pleased as well, just like a kid. When I joked about dessert, I hadn’t realised the connotations linked with it. Her face lit up even more and even the laugh she had was cute, how was that possible? 

It was a shame when the night came to an end and I had to say goodbye. I watched her stretch her legs and her toes distorted the ducks and when she yawned she screwed up her eyes and made me sleepy too. I suppressed a yawn and realised I had to take Flipper out. The glimpse of her apartment I saw showed it was tidy and clean – she had only moved in I guess. I knew I had to let her know how good tonight was before we parted, I struggled to get the words out and I nearly choked on them. Once they were out, she smiled widely and my insides unclenched – it wasn't so bad to say what I felt occasionally, especially if I got her smile in a response. Okay, that was weird. God I’m such a fucking sap! I don’t know what Yasmin is doing to me, all I know is that it isn’t bad so I don’t see any reason to stop seeing her.

Our first real meeting was really good, her smile, her laugh and her personality were all great, I didn't feel the wall inside me build itself higher with her; I felt confident and calm. Maybe like I could show her myself, talk to her about stuff other than just meaningless socially acceptable topics – not that I talked much anyway. When I returned with Flipper, her door was closed firmly but I still felt her presence, I went to bed that night calm without the usual troubles bothering me. I couldn't wait to see her again, even Flipper whined at her door when we returned. People always said dogs have a good sense of person, right?

The next time I saw her, my heart leapt into my throat and I nearly turned and ran away from her; terrified. The memory of happiness was the only thing that stopped me; I remembered how euphoric I was when I returned home, the way I smiled at the littlest of things and how she looked when she laughed and then I saw her smile at me and pull her earphones out: she clearly wanted to talk. I took a few deep breaths and sat next to her. Her cheeks were flushed, she must have been out in the city all day if she was coming home at this time. She was dressed well for the weather, the word that popped into my head was ‘cosy’ and in that moment I wanted to feel how soft she was, maybe like a stuffed toy or a comforter. Recently I found myself thinking these odd thoughts, they were a lot gentler than the ones I was used to: less malware and more take care. 

It was inevitable that she would find out about my job, I’m sure she could have guessed it was something to do with computers just by looking at my set-up in my apartment. She studied the picture on my ID carefully – I remember that day clearly; I was high on morphine, hadn’t opened my curtains for a few weeks and only left my apartment to get food – I looked fucking awful. I hated wearing a shirt but Gideon insisted on it – I only did it for him anyway, I trusted him and he respected and accepted me wholeheartedly in the company, it was the least I could do. The few relationships I had were heavily maintained, I tried my best to be kinder to those people: Darlene, Gideon, Angela and now, Yasmin. It wasn’t out of some sense of duty that I kept them up, it’s because these people, in their own ways, made me feel better and contributed to my life somehow.

I waited for her outside the subway, I saw her disgruntled face tinged with some doubt that I wouldn’t be there for her. It was that moment that I decided I always wanted to wait for her, to walk home with her even if it was in silence – I didn’t feel alone with her by my side and as always, she didn’t force conversation onto me, the wind was too strong to have been able to hear her anyway. Yasmin kept up with my long strides, maybe living in Alaskan winters nurtured your ability to be able to walk fast, either way I was happy to finally reach home and climb the stairs.

The second-most funniest thing happened when we reached the stairs. Thinking about it still cracks me up. A memory hasn’t made me laugh before; cry, definitely and feel angry too but never made me laugh. Anyway, she fucking fell over like a turtle, her little legs and arms flailing as she fell like a beetle that couldn’t get up. It fucking got me when that happened, I couldn’t stop myself from laughing even though she was embarrassed as hell. Eventually I managed to stop laughing long enough to see her curled up, hiding from the world – I sympathised with that feeling, often tugging my hood further down to hide from everyone, to just forget that they were there. 

I felt sheer joy inside. That hasn’t happened before. I wanted to hug her, she was so damn adorable. So I did. I pulled her in for a hug, a loose hug, but still a hug and I smelt her hair. It was cold against my cheek from the wind and it smelled of elderflowers, maybe that’s her favourite flower. It doesn’t matter, I reluctantly peeled away from her after a few seconds. Honestly I wouldn’t have minded staying there, she was soft and warm and human-sized. You could only have so many hugs with Flipper before even she got sick of it, and I don’t want to wake up to dog-butt in my face, so no thank you. The way she hugged me was nice, none of this stupid back-rubbing that you see everyone else doing. She just held my hoodie, and we had our moment outside out apartments. I felt comfortable hugging her, I chose to hug her so at least I didn’t have to quell the terror of someone spontaneously coming at me with their arms wide open. That’s happened too many times, I’ve learned to avoid those situations and perfected the stance to make them think twice about following through with their intentions.

I locked myself out of my apartment. I was fucking mortified. Stood there in my pyjamas (thank goodness I had put a shirt on) and socks in the cold quickly diminished my morning hard-on. There was nothing else for it and I had to knock on Yasmin’s door. I could hear her scurrying over and then she opened it a crack and I saw her shocked eyes before she slammed it in my face; I smiled at that. When she finally let me in, I took the chance to do something I’ve longed to do: run and dive onto someone else’s bed. Her bed didn’t disappoint, it was still warm from her body and I wrapped myself in her duvet: absolute bliss. I had been craving the smell of elderflowers from the night before and now I had an excuse to unabashedly take it in.

I’m pretty sure I made a fool of myself as I wiggled around on her bed; I couldn’t help it, her laugh was intoxicating. She giggled and her throat was scratchy from sleep and her smile made her eyes disappear. I got a little hard as her chest moved with her laughs; she didn’t notice me looking. I wasn’t afraid of the video she was taking, she can have it on me; a memento, a souvenir of our time together. I wanted to be closer to her, I stalked towards her; being careful to watch her eyes so I didn’t scare her. The nervousness on her face when she felt her back against the wall and again when she backed herself into a corner was like morphine, I wanted to see that more, but next time with a smirk on her face and a glint in her eye. Her chest heaved as her breathing quickened and I couldn’t help but glance and notice she was excited too, I swallowed down my intrigue and saved it for later. She was beautiful when the light fell on her face like that. That was a picture I’d like to wake up to again, her face in the morning. Being able to see someone there who wanted me, who didn’t leave me alone and who didn’t need anything from me but myself was calming yet exhilarating.

I made a hollow threat, there was no way I was going to delete the video from her account. I was going to copy it and watch it back just to hear her laugh when I was going through a rough patch. Plus I was going to snoop through her phone. She didn’t seem like someone who would take naked pictures but you never know until you look.

Yasmin has been this light in my life so far, like a comet just flew through the window and left Yasmin behind. She set everything on fire, left a trail in her wake and I could still see it all over my apartment. Darlene was sitting on the sofa when I woke up, my erection disappeared immediately and I groaned. That girl just doesn’t take a hint, I told her to fucking leave so many times before she stormed out, drinking the rest of my coffee and wiping her mouth. Why the fuck was she there anyway? She wanted to use my Wi-Fi. Not like she couldn’t just hack into anyone’s!

I saw her through the window in the coffee shop whilst going in late to work, serving customers and somehow I wasn’t shocked at all. She didn’t seem like she would be a barista but she was a natural at it and so a cup of coffee was the right thing to buy at that moment. She shocked me with her fake smile, to me it was fake. I’d seen her genuine smile up close and far away and this didn’t share any of the characteristics of it. A complete fake. I didn’t like fake Yasmin, I didn’t want to be around her like that. I left the shop without a coffee and confused, almost hurt that she didn’t drop the charade for me. Why would she…I wasn’t the centre of her fucking universe. I had a bad day that day. At work everyone was bitching for me to do their shit, fix this Elliot, do that Elliot, do you want to go for lunch Elliot? (Angela). I left there as soon as I could and went home. That night I watched the video of me and smiled at her uncontrollable laughter. At least I went to bed with a smile on my face.

The next day was better. A lot better. Fuck it’s making me smile again. This girl needs to just stop it or else people are going to think I’m happy. When she came out of the coffee shop, it was clear on her face that she hadn’t had a good day; that made two of us. We went to a bar, not my kind of thing but my kind of thing recently has been anything where Yasmin has been, so I went with her. She was bothered about something; maybe that was why she was ‘off’ with my yesterday. 

Yeah, she was bothered. Darlene. Fucking Darlene. Thanks sis for being a downer on my new friendship with this girl. On one hand I blamed Darlene for the awkwardness between us two but then again, Yasmin was jealous of a girl she didn’t even know. I would never be able to understand girls and their petty jealousy (even if it was kind of hot that she was jealous, the scowl on her face was just right). As soon as I laid her fears to rest; that Darlene wasn’t a threat, the happy Yasmin returned. The normal Yasmin. As close to normal as I think she gets. Her smile, her hair, her face; everything about her was sat in front of me and I felt so Zen; I could have been floating a foot in the air with how chilled she made me feel. There was no Evil Corp when she smiled, no fsociety and no crippling national debt. There was Yasmin and me and beer. 

Oh god the beer was good, it was so cold when it ran down my throat. I was on fire, my hoodie was still on. Fuck why was it still on again? Doesn’t matter. Shit, then she moved round to sit next to me and her fingers swept over the screen of her phone, showing me a picture of something. I didn’t know what was going on, her fingers were so long and elegant and she looked up at me expectantly. I had this fucking goofy-ass smile plastered on my face. I put it down to the alcohol. The alcohol made me more confident and sure of myself. She chattered away at me, describing this story about the restaurant in Alaska. She was one of three kids; the middle child. Her family sounded pretty ordinary; no murderous types or anyone who had a drug habit, just me then! She came along to this city because Alaska wasn’t big enough for her and I believed her, she looked like she had been a city girl all her life. She brought up Darlene again and I saw my chance, I had the confidence to do it and it felt so right.

I kissed her. Full-on-the-mouth kissed her. Sparks flew from me, from every place I touched her. My mouth was tingling touching hers. How the fuck does biology work, man? God I wanted it so much, all of the arousal I felt lying on her bed, catching glimpses of her in my dreams and then waking up and finding that someone else was happy as well and it felt amazing. When I pulled back from her gorgeous mouth, her eyes were hooded and her eyelashes tickled my cheeks, I had to kiss her again. Her hand found the back of my head and I shivered involuntarily and pulled her closer to me. Kissing her was a revelation, I hadn’t kissed anyone since Shayla and right now I didn’t want to kiss anyone else. I don’t remember what it felt like with Shayla, I think Yasmin has knocked all my past experiences out of the park. I couldn’t focus on anything but her; but the way she felt in my arms, how ‘cosy’ she was and the smell of elderflowers that exuded from her hair. I wanted that feeling every moment of the day. If I had that feeling, the overwhelming happiness and joy every day, I would never come down from it. I think I would be drunk every day, completely off my face with Yasmin. The only type of addiction that Gideon wouldn’t mind.

Fast forward to when I left her on our landing and went into my apartment. I was a happy man – the happiest man. I jacked off to her, I was high going to sleep – a smile plastered on my face. Flipper was happier too, and seemed to calm down at how chilled I was. 

The next day I woke up and I’d had a nightmare about her. She had been taken away from me as I was locked up in prison. I couldn’t have that happening – I couldn’t bring someone else into my fucked up life. I needed to go back to how it was before our kiss. It was a breath-taking night, I felt all of my synapses fire as she filled me and I hadn’t felt anything like it. But I needed to pull back from this – we needed to take it slowly. I tried to convince myself – recited phrases throughout the day, I didn’t remember what I did at work that day. All I knew was that when I got back to my apartment, I was a lot worse than I had been that morning.

The day after was horrible – I’d been up most of the night crying and staring at the wall, rocking slightly. I couldn’t fall asleep. She was in the forefront of my mind and she was crying as I told her we couldn’t do this anymore. I was turning this Yasmin over and over in my mind, I’d seen her as fake-Yasmin and it tore me apart and angered me. I wanted to shake her when she was fake-Yasmin. She wasn’t my Yasmin anymore! She saw me in the park on the way home from work and she chased me up the stairs when we arrived back at our building. I completely ignored her and then shouted at her. I didn’t meant to shout at her – her face went blank and her eyes welled with tears. I had to leave her like that. I had to get her out of my life, I was going to hurt her and I couldn’t drag her into this mess. I was a complete mess and she couldn’t fix me. I wanted her in my life so badly. Selfishness was a terrible trait of mine, I had to think about her welfare and that she came before me. I had to sever this tie. I felt my insides tear and writhe with the pain of losing her. I shut the curtains and went to bed straight away. 

Then the dream happened. Not the dream, the nightmare. I woke up in chills, I had tears running down my face and I couldn’t breathe. She was dead in the trunk of a car. Her neck, wrists and ankles severed. Blood had oozed out of everywhere, her eyes were red and it smelled of rotting elderflowers. I woke up and was sick in the bathroom. The terror that filled my body consumed me. Shayla’s death was the worst thing that had happened to me until now, even then I never had all-body spasms. Morphine withdrawal was a breeze compared to how I felt then – paranoid and looking out of my curtains, a knife in my hand and sobs tumbling out of my mouth. I was petrified. I needed to see her, I needed to know she was okay. Was she okay. My brain couldn’t focus on anything, it only saw Yasmin dead, dismembered, in a car. She wasn’t dismembered in my dreams, what the hell happened to me. I looked in every cupboard and wardrobe in my apartment – there was no one. No Vera and no fsociety. 

She was going to die if we were together. She would be murdered and taken away from me like Shayla was. I can’t go through that again. I won’t stand by and watch someone I care about be taken away from me. It was as if my enemies knew I had no friends and that every person was precious to me. I’ve never felt fear like it in my life. I have felt so much grief over Shayla’s death and the grief of getting over my father’s death for a second time – after the hallucinations stopped. But on that night I was seeing shadows across the floors. I ran away from them and hid in my bed. The sheets were wet and I don’t think it was just sweat either. I had no control over my body, all I knew was that I had to keep away from Yasmin or else she would die. I would kill her by knowing her. Not another person in my life torn away from me.

There hadn’t been anyone in my life since Shayla. Yasmin was it, she must be the next person in my life. She didn’t breeze through like everyone else – the new girl hitting on me at work, the drugged up whore on the subway, none of those girls mattered. Yasmin was stuck to me like a seed taking root. She had wound her way around my limbs, organs and veins and if she were to be pulled out, all of me would go with her too. I felt her presence all over me and I was terrified for her. I shouldn’t be bringing a girl into my life again when I was just going to get her murdered. Why the fuck did I let this happen?! I needed some happiness in my life and I thought that my friendship with her would be simple, until the night at the bar happened and it was so natural, we both fell into it. We fell into a canyon that had no end, free-falling with each other, our lives rushing past our heads as we fell – that is what the night at the bar made me feel.

I’ve been here for several days – what day is it now? What time is it? Flipper needs me, I take her out quickly. She’s placated for a few more hours. It smells in my apartment. It smells of guilt, lust, greed, terror and want. I’m torn between what is right and what my heart wants. How the fuck does my heart know what it wants. It points me in a direction that can only end in oblivion. I can’t have that happen to Yasmin. She knocked on the door once, two nights before the nightmare happened. I cowered and hid in the bathroom; I couldn’t bear to hear her yelling my name. I was hurting her. This isn’t just me in the relationship, asshole. There are other people involved. I have to sort myself out, I have to explain to her that this can’t happen. I don’t want to know how I have hurt her. But I do, I want to make it up to her. I want to kiss it all better and I want to hear that laugh again. I want her to laugh at something I do and all I need is her to feel happy. It’s fucking ridiculous, how can I feel this way for someone who probably sees me as a friend-with-benefits. How do I know that’s actually how she sees me? Fuck this is going nowhere.

One night I heard a thud against my door – saw shadows moving in the gap between it and the jamb. His voice was deep with steroids – who the fuck was he. I felt anger wash over me, was he going to hurt Yasmin? She’s smart enough to see a dangerous person when she sees one, she didn’t see the danger in me – she doesn’t know me. I have to warn her about how I am. I can hear a rhythmical banging behind my cupboards, the sink vibrates with every thud – someone is coming through. That is until the groans filter through and I know what is happening. I can’t stop the tears that drip down my cheeks and the way my chest heaves silently. I can’t help but imagine her pure ecstasy at the hands of another man. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t imagine her that way. Not my Yasmin. This is fake-Yasmin. What normal-Yasmin would bring home a lolloping, lazy, brutish frat boy to fuck? I don’t want to think about how Yasmin is.

I have wallowed in my fear and self-pity for too long and now it hits me like a ton of bricks. How is Yasmin? How has my behaviour affected her? I don’t want to think about hurting her – the amount of damage done will take years to repair. She may as well have been dismembered because it's the same amount of emotional damage that will have been done to her. Fuck I am a horrible person. I try to think of my Yasmin, when she was in my arms and her tongue was licking the inside of my mouth but I feel sick knowing that now she’s doing that to someone else. I run to the bathroom and vomit bile – I haven’t eaten.

I’m back on my bed and there’s no more noise of the bed banging against the wall. The shower is on and I imagine it’s her and I can’t think anymore. I start crying ugly fat tears and I’m becoming progressively louder in between sobs. I can’t have this going on, I need to see her and I need to tell her how this has made me feel. I need to make it up to her, I hope it isn’t too late. I’m going to get Yasmin back. I shout as loud as I can and hope she hears me as I vow to myself to never fuck up with her again, I’m going to rebuild what I have broken no matter what it takes to do so.


	12. Recovery Mode

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for those who stick around and read. Comments and constructive criticism always welcome.

I fell asleep crying. I know because I have a raging migraine and my face feels crusty from dried tears. The silence of the morning allows me to remember the self-induced emotional rollercoaster from last night. I sigh and Flipper comes over to me and sits on my pillow at my head. She’s soft and warm against my forehead. My phone bleeps somewhere underneath her and I fish it out, seeing a few missed calls from Darlene and Angela and a message from Gideon – short, simple and supportive ‘take all the time you need. G’. I swear he’s the only one who understands pain and difficult emotions from a male’s perspective – he’s more like a father in my life than my real Dad ever was. 

Last night was the pinnacle of emotions for me over the past few days, all of the self-hatred, selfishness, terror, jealousy and lust that I felt has ended up with me feeling like this. I need a fresh start and I vowed last night I would get her back. For once in my life I’m going to do something that my heart wants to. I know I can keep her safe and I know that she will do the same for me – I haven’t been this clear-headed for a long time. I need her in my life. I need my own autumn breeze to blow away the cobwebs – a fresh start every day and that is exactly what I would get with her. I just hope I’m not too late. Even if I am, I need her. I don’t care what position she takes in my life – all I know is that I need her there; friend, neighbour, girlfriend, life-partner, soulmate, fuck buddy, whatever the hell you want. I need that girl in my life. She’s the breath of fresh air that every fucked up person longs for. 

First things first. I fucking stink. This apartment stinks. Fuck, and Flipper has done what she needed to do. I vow from this day forward, I, Elliot Alderson, will clean up my life, get it back on track and be selfish until I have what I want and I have made right what is wrong.

\--

Midday rolls by and the windows are fully open, Flipper is on her leash – it tied around a table leg so she doesn’t hurt herself. My bedding is in a pile by the door, fuck, all my life is in a pile by the door. Fresh start, fresh clothes, fresh attitude, fresh hard drives. I need this. Last night was the most cathartic process for me and I don’t want to get to that point again – I will not allow my emotions to overrun me, unless those emotions urge me to do something good in my life. I stand in my apartment; furniture, garbage and clothes strewn everywhere. Flipper looks at me with big dark eyes and I decide to take her out for a walk and dispose of the trash at the same time; two birds with one stone and all that. 

The day is bright and sunny, December looks like it's going to be a nice month. The sky looks heavy with impending snow and I make a note to buy some thicker socks whilst I'm out. The feel of the icy wind on my face wakes me up, gives me a slap in the face that was well deserved after how I have wallowed over the past few days. The day after an emotional breakdown is always the clearest and I intend to act on my mental clarity before something else clouds my judgement. Flipper stops often at trees and lampposts and for once I'm not that bothered, I like being able to go places without haste. So often in my life I'm running from one place to another be it doing a favour for someone or responding to a cry for help from Darlene when all she needed was a spare rechargeable battery; it's those trips that piss me off and make me hate leaving my apartment. I make stops at the usual places; picking up groceries, some fresh fruit and vegetables to make up for the lack of vitamins and minerals in my all-ramen diet. I make a note to invite Yasmin round and cook for her, maybe that could be the first step to apologising for the fucking asshole I've been impersonating lately. Flipper waits patiently outside, sniffing at passing dogs and when I appear, her dark eyes light up – it makes me happy. I didn't plan on being a parent of a pet but seeing her with Michael Hansen pulled at something inside of me – maybe some caring, paternal instinct deep-rooted from the experiences with my own father. I wouldn't let her be mistreated in that way and possibly feel any hurt from someone who was meant to care for her and provide food. She's turned out to be the first step in me caring for myself again properly, I had someone else to live for other than myself with Flipper and now Yasmin has appeared in my life; I have another reason to stick around. 

Outside the computer shop where I buy my hard drives, Flipper waits patiently. The staff here know to leave me alone and I grab a few drives, some for spare, and some new blank CDs. The transaction is quick and silent and I nod at the guy behind the counter before he turns back to his Nintendo 3DS XL - he's a Mario nerd. 

\--

The flat is tidy, new sheets and my desktop is whirring away in the corner. Flipper is curled up on her new bed I bought for her, her tiny chest moving with every breath she takes. It warms me for a minute. I sit at my computer, being careful to not wake her and hack my way into Yasmin's phone. Her contacts, recently opened apps and call list pop up on my desktop. I need to find who this asshole is, I want to know why she was with him and what he is to her. The text messages I find are vulgar and frankly disgusting. He's bragging about how his dick felt in her, I want to be sick. I take a deep breath and grab a glass of water – he doesn't deserve thinking about for too long. Her responses to him were less enthusiastic, mainly text-speak confirmations of ‘mhmm’ and ‘yeah’, she clearly didn't feel the same – I felt good about that. I couldn't bare the thought of her enjoying it, a frat boy fucking her and pulling noises from her like I heard the other night. I closed the window and opened the one for her photo album and started scrolling. For the first time ever since I began hacking people, I felt like I was invading her privacy…like I shouldn't be there. I squashed the feeling and continued, wanting to find one from that night. A dark shot, blurry from the movement of the people around them but a photo quite clearly a selfie. She had the beginning of a smile on her face, as if the photo was taken prematurely, his face had a huge grin on it and his stupid teeth glowed with the UV lights of the club. Glancing upwards, I noted the location and name of the club and shut the photo album window. 

Now the real hacking began. I began the long process of hacking into their website and then their payment system. I searched for his name through the credit card records – he must have used it right? He looked fucking drunk, his stupid teeth and stupid muscles and his fucking horrible text messages. He reeked of ‘horrible person’. I was going to destroy him. After a couple of minutes of scrolling, his credit card number sat neatly next to his stupid name, ‘Mr Chad Forsyth’. Next was the challenge to find his university, there were only several universities whose students liked to live around my neighbourhood. A quick search of their administrative systems showed his stupid name typed in cursive next to his choice of major, ‘English Lit. With a minor in psychology’. He even had a scholarship to top off his stupid appearance, his stupid fucking major and his ugly fucking teeth.

My chest was heaving and Flipper was at my feet, sitting on them as my fists clenched and unclenched on the desk. I let go of the mouse and stood up, stroking her and filling her food bowl and water again. I needed a break. Just looking at this guy's face made me want to destroy it. If when I next see Yasmin, there is even a mark on her, I'm going to fucking explode. Not in front of her of course. I don't want her to see me like that. I want to protect her, I need to protect her or I'll go insane. I grabbed a pack of cookies and went back to my desk and cracked my neck. 

I searched his name on popular school forums and social media, his profile was the same picture on all of them. If it wasn't for actually knowing this guy was real, I'd think he was a ghost trying to catfish my girl. Not my girl. Trying to catfish Yasmin. Yasmin wasn't that obtuse. She would have seen a dick from a mile away. His social media accounts were about as transparent as Vera’s. Full of disgusting code to do with football, banging chicks and frat parties. Even worse than this was a local newspaper article written a few years ago in a township out of state. 

Chad was pictured in a mugshot. His stupid smug face had a smirk on it as he held a placard with his name and an official number below. Pictured from the side, his jaw jutted out with a prominent overbite. He must have gotten corrective surgery before going to university. I read the article and felt sick. It insinuated that he and a group of high school buddies had ambushed two girls whilst they were walking home. The girls were found bloodied, naked and shaking. They could not identify their attackers but DNA evidence gathered proved that at least Chad was involved. His buddies were seen around the same time as the alleged attack but it looked like Chad was the only one incriminated. He received a warning from the police and was let go – the girls were too scared to testify in court. I felt sick. How disgusting was this man – not a man, a boy. A disgusting boy who felt that it was okay to rape and attack women. What about Yasmin? Did he force her into it. My blood boiled through my veins, my fists lashed out and banged against the desk loudly. I would not have this happening again. I needed to destroy this scum – decimate him so he could never live a normal life again. 

I closed the tab and continued to scroll quickly through his social media, trying to find a pattern with his slang used and correlate it with pictures that he was tagged in and status updates alike. There seemed to be regular occurrences of parties and bragging about his bed partners however only once was there an angry message. He seemed to have been scared about something and lashed out through his social media – lots of his buddies had commented with support and similar messages. Something was being hidden and this idiot decided that he was going to say something about it. I needed to see what had happened. 

Whilst on all of the local newspaper websites I used a keywords search to look for any mentions of his university associated with rapes or violent crimes. Only a couple popped up, and there was only one that called for information for the public as the attacker had not been identified. The case looked like it had been forgotten – no further mention of it on the website. The timestamps matched, sure it was a few hours out but they definitely matched. Knowing about his previous history with the girls, I quickly found his online cloud account to where all of his phone pictures were automatically uploaded. Sure enough, in the deleted folder were some from that night, a young man, younger than Chad lying on the pavement outside of presumably their frat house. He had blood pouring from a gash on his head and a black eye was beginning to form. God knows why anyone would want to take a picture of this. Some disgusting creature certainly needed it for protection, proof or prowess. Either way, I felt sick again. The fact that a human being was making me feel physically sick more often than he didn't was a bad sign – this man was someone that no one wanted walking the earth. 

The news article stated that a man had entered the A&E department of the local hospital with a severe concussion and comatose. He had only been found on the street when the blood from his head had dried up and his black eye was swollen and protruding from his face. The victim, one Andrew Symons, was still in a coma in the hospital – that explained the lack of further articles. So this is what Chad was involved in – a hazing gone wrong. Maybe Andrew was dared to jump from the roof and when he refused, was punched in the face and therefore fell and split his head open. I was going to make this right. I had the evidence right in front of me. I got to work making Chad Forsyth his very own CD. 

The zip file uploaded quickly and I submitted an anonymous tip-off to the police department. That would be the end of Chad’s life and I didn't feel one ounce of pity for him. The rage flowing through me was palpable and even though it was time for Flipper to go out again, she was hiding from me under the table. I pushed myself away from the desk and filed the CD in the album – deleting the folder from my PC once and for all. I stood up and stretched, hearing my muscles expand and bones creak. Flipper padded over to me and looked up tentatively. I smiled at her and she wagged her tail – walkies time!

I felt lighter after the afternoon’s activities. I knew that what I had done was my way of showing Yasmin I cared for her. Sooner or later it would be big news – I made sure of that. When she saw, I will be there for her and there won't be any more bad people to hurt her. Terror rages through me as I imagine her in a coma, black eye and all: she could have ended up more than just physically violated last night. At the bottom of the stairs leading to our building, I ponder which way to go – towards the coffee shop or away from it. I smile to myself and follow the way my heart is pulling me. 

I stand in the recess I was in the other day before we went to the bar. I saw her busying about behind the counter: making coffees, smiling warm but not-quite-genuine smiles at customers and cooing at children when they came in, pleading with their parents for a candy bar or cookie. She looked so natural there, like she could have a happy life so long as she was serving people on a daily basis. Flipper sits patiently at my feet, as if she knows I'm not quite ready to approach. She understands me and I appreciate that. After running over how I'm going to do this, I eventually reach into my backpack and fish out a business card, worn white from rubbing against other papers, on it I scribble a legible message for her and stuff it into my pocket. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with taxi fumes and cross the road, Flipper in tow. I tie her up outside and push the door open, noting a few people glancing at me, Yasmin not included. As I'm standing behind the customer in front, I'm bouncing on my toes and I hurriedly push down my hood and ruffle my hair. He steps away, stuffing change into his pocket and I shuffle forward. Yasmin’s smile falters slightly and she meets my eyes; they're hard and angry, I suppress a smirk and order a coffee. She's in barista-mode and it irks me but I know how she really is, how she can melt in my arms and show me who she really is with just a picture from back home. 

She busies herself with the machines, compressing the ground roast and boiling the milk – I like it extra hot. I stand expectantly at the end of the bar with the business card under my hands. On the front I scribbled her name and a smiley face, hopefully that softens her icy demeanour and shows that I'm trying to take steps to undo my actions. She places the takeaway cup on the ledge and her fingers linger slightly. I give her the warmest smile I can muster and push the card towards her. Her eyes show curiosity underneath her anger and she takes it with a small but genuine smile – my lovely Yasmin, thank god she's still there. Her head turns to glance to see if any other staff members are watching and she turns it over and immediately bites her lip. 

“If stir-fry is okay, come over @ 7:30?”

Her eyes are bright and a smile is hiding from me as she bites her lip. She looks up at me through eyelashes, pockets the card and nods. I leave the coffee shop with a spring in my step and Flipper is happily trotting behind me. Time to don my chef's hat and get cooking!


	13. Troubleshoot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here ya go! Enjoy, comment, criticise (constructively) and read my little reader beavers!
> 
> ps. Hi me again. I'm sorry to those who might think Elliot's soliloquy is rushed...when I wrote it, it took me a few hours so I kept on coming back to it. In my head, it was a lot more paced than it might appear below :)

He had been on her mind all day. Ever since he came in, a small smile on his face – very unlike him, and had slipped Yasmin the card with his scribbled but neat handwriting on it asking her over. She mused to herself that it felt very much like passing notes in class. It had been difficult for the past few days, Elliot hadn’t been there except for the noises she heard from his apartment, he hurt Yasmin and he had confused her. Yasmin accepted Elliot’s request for two reasons: curiosity and a free meal. She wondered as to his intentions that came with the meal; if he still wanted to continue their friendship and maybe develop it into more than that, or if he wanted to nip it in the bud before it had a chance to blossom. Somehow she didn’t get that feeling considering his smile and the way his cheeks were tinged with pink when he surreptitiously slipped her the card. He came in just after lunchtime and from that moment on, Yasmin was counting down the hours – checking the clock often, maybe even too often as she noticed Nick’s disapproving look. She didn’t want to get herself into the boss’ bad books courtesy of his son.

When the clock showed 6:30 most of the chairs were on top of the tables, Paul was finishing off sweeping the floor and the dishwasher had just beeped to signal the end of a cycle. Yasmin untied her apron, folded it neatly and put it inside her backpack – trying to not seem too eager to leave. She really liked working there, it felt like after joining the shop, they had found the missing piece to fix their clunky, old machine to be a newly well-oiled one. She waved to both gentlemen and wound her scarf around her neck. Snow flurries were gently falling from the sky, occasionally being buffeted by a gust of wind – thank goodness the apartment wasn’t too far away. Yasmin had a spring in her step from anticipation - she'd waited this long, various scenarios popping into her head during the quieter moments in the coffee shop. Most of them were negative and ended with her crying and their friendship completely ruined – she desperately didn't want those to come true. Yasmin really hoped the smile on his face was kind and warm and not conniving and sly.

She nervously plodded up the stairs and was safely inside her apartment for 6:45. Yasmin checked her phone as saw she had enough time to have a shower and change into something less stinky. Even though the apartment building with its lack of elevator was annoying when she had been grocery shopping, Yasmin really liked the apartment – it fitted her well and wasn't too pokey for a downtown city pad. She shrugged off her backpack, coat and scarf and hung them up, soon stripping off her work clothes and throwing them into the washing basket – it was nearly empty as after Chad’s visit she had washed everything she could imagine he had touched, which was everything as she felt grubby and dirty the morning after and looked around her dishevelled apartment. The blemish on her collarbone was a hideous mustard colour and was still an obvious sign as to her transgressions. Yasmin had received quite a few dirty looks during work, mainly from single mothers and some lecherous smirks from middle-aged businessmen. 

The warm water flowed over her tense shoulders and she took a moment to relax against the newly-bleached tiles and allowed her muscles to individually relax. She felt a lot better as she washed her hair and pulled out any loose strands as she conditioned it. Her body wash filled the bathroom in a lavender and elderflower haze, the steam hanging in the air heavily and coating the mirror in a film of condensation. Her towel felt cold hugging her body as she dried herself in the living area, she made sure to close her curtains before entering the bathroom – who knew what perverts lurked opposite. Yasmin checked her phone once more and hurried to pull on some clothes – she didn't want to be late after all of this tension. 

She settled on a pair of tracksuit bottoms, frayed at the ends from years of wear and tear, her favourite t-shirt bearing the logo of an anime she liked and some unicorn slipper-socks. She quickly towel-dried her hair and left it down before grabbing her keys and two bottles of beer as her contribution to the meal. 

She stood outside his apartment for a few seconds – sure he had heard her door close anyway. Yasmin took a few deep breaths and knocked. Flipper rushed over and the faint sounds of her sniffing the space between the door and the floor could be heard, Yasmin smiled. Elliot opened the door and the first thing Yasmin noticed was his matching tracksuit bottoms and an incongruous red-plaid button down shirt. She offered a small smile and pushed the beer at him, receiving a muttered thanks in return. Yasmin scurried into his apartment and sat on his sofa, tucking her feet underneath her as she usually did. It looked…different somehow, as if someone had ripped out the inside and replaced it with nearly the same items that there were before. Maybe he had decided to tidy up? Yasmin didn't spend too long on the thought and looked up at his bright face. Elliot wasn't smiling, she noted, he just looked full of energy – Yasmin was really happy to see him like this. Seeing him happy and alive was definitely a change from the sombre and muted Elliot. He looked like he was about to jump into song and dance, bouncing on his toes with his hand outstretched, an open beer offered to her. Yasmin took it thankfully and had a quick sip, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the thought of their last encounter involving beer. 

She watched as Elliot returned to his kitchen and noticed the quiet sizzling of food and the gentle waft of a sweet sauce that hit her nostrils. The way Elliot moved around the kitchen was naturally clumsy – like he knew where everything was but he still managed to trip over the cupboard doors. Yasmin watched amused and sipped at her beer, feeling the alcohol rush through her tired body and fill her limbs with lead. She sighed quietly and Flipper’s head popped up and sniffed at Yasmin, she gave her a pat on the head and Flipper lay back down in her…was that a new bed? Now Yasmin took the time to actually look, she noticed that his sheets were usually grey and not purple and his computer was glowing green instead of blue, maybe he had thrown more than just a bit of bedding away. She wondered to herself what had caused this sudden turnaround in his behaviour. Could it have something to do with their argument, or more like his spontaneous renouncement of her entire being and their friendship? 

Yasmin watched as Elliot shook off the excess vegetables on the spatula and set it to one side and turned to her. She noticed his bright green eyes and his relaxed posture as he leaned against the countertop; she was slightly turned on, she had to admit. He exuded confidence when in his own space, when he was comfortable in his own skin – Yasmin loved this about him, self-confidence was still something she was working on herself and recently it had taken a knock from his rejection of her. She smiled gently at him and he took that as a sign that it was okay to come over. Her gaze followed him as he brushed past her legs and steadied himself on one of her knees and sat down next to her. He purposefully placed his left hand facing upwards, inviting her to join him.

Emotions swelled within Yasmin’s chest. She was terrified of being hurt again if she gave herself to him. He didn't want to just hold her hand, she could feel that this meant a lot more than just a normal friendly gesture and the thought of giving her trust to him like this scared her. Yasmin was surprised that next to her sat the epitome of calm and cool, he was fully relaxed – no hint of any tension of nervousness that usually surrounded him like his own personal aura. She looked into his eyes, they were large and even more doe-like than usual and ever so green. Yasmin was sure she was going to fall into them if she didn't look away. So she did, she watched herself place her hand in his despite her raging fear and felt him gently stroke the back with his thumb. No words were spoken between the two, the only sounds of quiet sizzling food and her heartbeat in her ears. Yasmin licked her dry lips and realised her eyes were closed – when had that happened? When she opened them, she saw Elliot looking at her, words on the tip of his tongue as if he needed to spit them out; she gave him a small nod. 

“Yasmin…I can't even begin to tell you about what happened,” he gripped her hand more firmly and continued, “All I know is, I can't live like that…on my own now that you’re here. I was fucking terrified of hurting you. I can see I have already.” He paused and looked into her eyes and she saw the pain that he was describing – it seeped out of every pore of his skin and she knew this was major shit, not some trivial and fleeting emotion. Yasmin was glad to see these emotions, however negative they were. She was glad she got to see this traumatised Elliot full of feeling and not the one with his hood up and eyes downcast, like a corporate slave. “I'll do my best to answer any questions you have. I just want you to stay, please?”

Yasmin replayed his words to herself in slow motion and heard the way he spoke and how his nervousness was in his words and not in his actions. She was sure that if words were forbidden and actions only permitted, that their relationship would blossom effortlessly. Words were what gave their true emotions away. She pulled her hand away from his and she saw him open his mouth to speak. She slid closer to him and pushed herself into his side and placed her head over his heart, feeling the cool cotton against her cheek. Yasmin wound her arm around his middle and gripped his shirt, rubbing her knuckles against the soft material and she relaxed for the first time since she had entered his apartment. She felt Elliot released a held breath, kiss her hair gently and hold her to him like his life depended on it. 

Yasmin wasn't sure how much time passed whilst they held each other but soon Elliot was muttering an apology and sheepishly jumped up and ran to the kitchen to take their food off the stove and serve it. Yasmin suppressed a yawn and took another drink of her beer. Elliot returned to the sofa holding two dishes and she laughed out loud seeing he had found a fork especially for her. He must have bought it from one of those embarrassing shops where they sell objects with kid’s names in big goofy letters; it was pink and purple with a large flower and her name running along the handle. Elliot smiled too and sat down with his chopsticks to eat happily. Yasmin took her first bite and made appreciative noises to him, nodding her head to show it was actually good and that the chicken was cooked all the way through and wouldn't end up giving either of them salmonella. They settled into a comfortable alternation of eating and taking sips of beer. Surprisingly Elliot finished first, even with the retched bits of sticks as utensils. Yasmin speared her last bamboo shoot and lifted the bowl to her mouth to drink every last bit of sauce. When she lowered the bowl, Elliot's eyebrows were raised in incredulity and Yasmin giggled and blushed in response and embarrassingly set down her bowl next to his on the table; Flipper sniffed the bowls and made a whining noise. Elliot ignored her and his eyes never left Yasmin’s face, she felt like he was staring into her soul, either that or he was trying to communicate telepathically with her. She coughed and ruffled her hair with her hands, trying to help it dry after her shower and not end up like a frizzy mess. She played with a couple of strands and started to braid small sections, all the while feeling burning jade eyes from her right side.

“That night at the bar was the happiest I’ve been in a long time,” Elliot suddenly said. Yasmin froze mid-braid and hoped he would continue. A few silent moments passed and she peeked through her hair and saw him biting his lip, trying to find the right words. Yasmin let him think and continued with her braid knowing he would continue when he was ready. “You were just so happy. And you were with me and you’re not freaked out by me. I don’t understand you and yet I really don’t care. I know you make me happy and I’ve decided that’s the most important thing right now.” He spoke slowly with perfectly measured words and Yasmin felt all sorts of emotions rushing through her system at every sentence. By the end of his last sentence, she felt euphoric and slightly confused that she, a normal and pretty average girl, could make him feel all of these things. “Last year…” he paused and she glanced at him again only to see quiet tears running down his cheeks. Yasmin held in a breath and continued to braid, hoping he would continue. “A girl I liked…loved, I think. Was killed. Shayla filled the same void in me that you do.” Yasmin’s eyes went wide and she turned fully to him, braids forgotten and resisted all urges to touch him even though her head was screaming to comfort him. She pulled her knees up to her chin and held them tightly; giving her arms something to do. “Our night at the bar made me realise that you weren’t just my neighbour or someone that passed through my life without leaving their mark. It fucked me up, honestly. I had to think and I was a dick doing it. Yasmin, I want to give you my sincerest apology. I don’t want to hurt you, I never intended to and the fact that I have, tears me apart.” Elliot looked up at her and quickly wiped away his tears from his cheeks and wrung his hands. She watched him and didn’t know how to react. No one had ever expressed such deep feelings as he was doing in front of her. She gave him a small nod and a smile of understanding and he let out a breath and prepared himself to continue. “As I said, I didn’t mean to shout at you. I saw how hurt you were right then and I fucking left you and hid like a coward. Then I guessed you did what you had to do.” Yasmin felt a stab of hurt when he had said that. Even though she deserved this explanation and a full apology, she couldn’t help but feel guilty at her own roundabout act of revenge and the way it had impacted him during his period of turmoil. “The fact that you’re sat in front of me is a miracle considering that guy. I hacked him; he played a part in a murder, he’s vile.” Elliot’s voice was terse and Yasmin could tell that his teeth were clenched as he spoke. She looked at him in a mix of annoyance that he had looked into this guy, horror and a warmth that filled her at the thought of him being protective even during their rocky friendship. “He’ll be front page news tomorrow and more importantly, you’re safe.” At this he looked up at her, his eyes were ringed with red and his mouth was a firm line. She gave him a small smile and held her hand out to him which he immediately took and held in both of his larger ones.

Yasmin took a moment to enjoy the warmth that radiated off him. Her mind whirred over all that he had said – it was funny because Yasmin was always a stickler for details; she needed to know every little meaning behind feelings and thoughts yet here she was having been presented with a rough hash of feelings and outline of events and she felt completely resolved. She still had a pang of hurt when she remembered him shouting at her but the look in his eyes and his tears made her reconsider his actions – knowing that his actions meant more than his words. They were just nasty words that were shouted at her general direction because she had prodded him whilst in a vulnerable state. Yasmin saw this Elliot and knew that this is how he was 90% of the time. She could deal with the other 10%. They would deal with that together, just as long as he would have her. 

On a whim she scooted forward until she sat directly in front of him, her feet touching his, legs knocking into his and her head and the same level as his, perched on top of her knees. His eyes roved her face and she sat patiently in front of him and smiled. “I accept your apology, Elliot. Thank you for the explanation. I’m ready to move on if you are.” She practically whispered the words to him and his face brightened and his eyes twinkled in the dark of his apartment. Elliot let out several deep breaths that hit Yasmin in the face and a large grin formed, he nodded and leaned his forehead onto hers. She shut her eyes and cautiously touched her fingers to the back of his head, he didn’t flinch or move away which she took as a positive sign and let her hand fully hold him to her. She felt his body start to shake with laughter, she guessed from relief rather than anything else. His scent overwhelmed her brain; limes and his freshly washed skin were like kryptonite to her, she wanted to bathe in it. Yasmin guessed she could always steal his shower gel and a hoodie or two…she pushed those thoughts away for the moment and stroked her fingers down the back of his head to his neck and allowed herself to feel his skin. She felt him shiver and his laughing stopped and was replaced by gentle breaths followed by even gentler kisses. She felt that electricity shoot through her limbs once more and race along her skin, igniting every nerve that it touched. His arms reached out for her and pulled her closer, dragging her torso halfway over him and she felt safe encompassed in his grasp. His kisses became softer, slower and gentler; letting her pull away and return to him as she pleased. He had a smile on his face as he kissed her and his long fingers tucked her hair behind her ear causing Yasmin to shiver in return.

Elliot held her close to him and Yasmin opened her eyes, still feeling like her skin was on fire and would spontaneously combust any second. Elliot stared back at her and his thumb ran over her forehead and down her nose, she watched it slowly move and it made her go cross-eyed; he chuckled at her and she smiled back. His thumb tapped the end of her nose and moved across her cheekbone and onto her cheek, poking it slightly. She puffed out her cheek and he pushed again, expelling all the air from her mouth onto his face and he smiled. Next his thumb touched the corner of her mouth and made its way gently along her bottom lip, her tongue swiped his thumb with a gentle lick and he pushed the pad inside experimentally. Yasmin held it between her teeth and licked it in slow circles, drawing secret patterns of which she only knew the design. His eyes never left her face and his mouth was open in shock at her candid behaviour and his pupils were blown wide in lust. She let his thumb go and licked her lips, her eyes connected with his and she felt aroused immediately. A blush had formed on her cheeks and it took her a few seconds to get herself under control; Elliot seemed to be doing the same thing. Soon a knowing smirk was back on his face and he used his chin to motion upwards; she tilted her head back obligingly; his thumb continued its path over her chin and down her throat. Yasmin held her breath and Elliot’s fingers stroked her skull behind her ear endearingly whilst his more adventurous hand explored; the area soon became very sensitive from overstimulation. Yasmin’s eyes closed of their own accord and she mewled when his thumb landed in the dip between her collarbones and stroked along to her shoulder and back up her neck to her ear. Yasmin felt exposed and naked letting him explore her like this but she felt so safe knowing he was holding her and getting to know her in this way. Elliot’s breathing was heavy and he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on her neck; Yasmin moaned in surprise. His lips left a brand on her neck and Yasmin’s heartbeat hammered away in her ears, she opened her eyes and stared at Elliot; his face was set in a serene and curious expression – like he’d never seen anyone react to his touch in the same way before. Inside Yasmin’s head was a fight over which emotion was okay to be feeling, she was confused at how turned on she was and wanted to hide in embarrassment yet she felt so confident, like he had brought out the best in her and produced such a result that he was proud of her for exploring her desires and allowing him to communicate with her in such a way. His thumb stroked between her eyebrows and he smiled gently at her obvious inner turmoil. “It’s okay Yasmin…promise.” At that she softened and allowed herself to accept her emotions as conflicted, she nodded at him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a hug. She buried her head into his neck and he tensed slightly but contrarily, held her tighter to him and encouraged her; she slumped into his embrace and yawned. “Yeah, I’m exhausted too. Time for bed. I promise I’ll keep 3ft away from you at all times.” Elliot joked half-heartedly and Yasmin huffed out a laugh and stroked his neck in response. She took a deep breath and pushed herself up off him and off the sofa and trudged to his bed. 

Yasmin felt nervous about sleeping with him…well not _with_ him but still, next to him and in the same bed. She pushed her nervousness away and climbed in under the duvet, still fully clothed and with her socks on. When she felt no added weight, she peeked out and saw him scratching the back of his head in the way he did, Flipper was sat at his feet wagging her tail. “Umm, I’m going to take her out quickly, I’ll be back soon.” He walked over to the side of the bed and looked down at Yasmin, she looked like a caterpillar in a cocoon and he smiled delicately at her. Yasmin felt warmth spread through her and turned over, stuffing her face into his pillow and inhaled her kryptonite. She heard him open a drawer and felt something land on top of her. “Here’s a shirt and shorts for you, I hope they’re alright,” he mumbled as if in an apology, she stuck her hand into the air with a thumbs up and he barked a laugh at her. The next thing Yasmin remembered was the shutting of the door and the scratching of claws on the floor before she fell into a warm and heavy sleep.


	14. Tutorial

Elliot woke up groggily; he felt hot, stifled and confused. What happened last night and why the hell was he so hot?! He was sure he didn’t leave his radiator on all night, his bills at the end of the month would be exorbitant if that was the case. He paused and noticed a lovely smell filling his nostrils and he opened his eyes slowly, hoping he still wasn't dreaming. Sure enough, his blurry vision made out dark hair on his pillow that definitely did not belong to him. Did anyone else he knew smell like elderflowers? Elliot tried to think but could only focus on his erection that screamed at him. He rubbed his eye with a fist and tried to move away from her, he presumed this ‘her’ was Yasmin but he couldn’t be sure yet and he rolled onto his back, immediately kicking off the comforter. He sighed and relaxed against his pillow and rubbed his face properly, his hands even smelled like elderflowers and he was sure he didn’t own anything with that scent. 

Elliot turned carefully towards the sleeping figure and leaned over her to get a better look at her face. What he saw pleased him; he grinned from ear to ear and had a sudden urge to stroke it and caress it and love it until it didn’t want anymore. He blinked hard and looked again – the sleeping face of his neighbour laid on his pillow serenely. She looked so angelic when she slept, he could never imagine anything bad or even crass coming out of those pouting lips, he had a strong urge to kiss her but he held back and decided an assault on a sleeping person would be the wrong thing to do. He allowed himself a small moment to take in Yasmin; the way her face was when she slept (including the involuntary noises she made), the shape of her body when she was sleeping and even her lips slightly parted as she breathed. Elliot had a small fanboy moment and laid back down. He was distracted once more by his arousal and looked at it with annoyance – for once he wished that his genitalia didn’t want to play as soon as he woke up. All Elliot wanted to do was to wake up embracing her and not stab her with a body part and insinuate that she was required to attend to him. He chose to relieve himself in the bathroom as quickly as possible so he could cuddle her once more. 

The floor was cold when he stood up and he shivered and hobbled into the bathroom as least awkwardly as possible with a raging erection. He made sure to lock the door, took a deep breath and let emotions flood his brain. He felt so happy at waking up next to Yasmin and also ridiculously horny. He leaned against the door and pushed his hand inside his trousers and tried to not groan – he imagined Yasmin doing it for him and soon his head was flooded with images that were less than innocent. He didn’t last for long whenever he thought of Yasmin – not that he had been thinking of her of course, at least that’s what he tried to convince himself. Elliot always found that the key to a deep and full night’s sleep was to think about Yasmin which nearly always ended up with him stroking himself. His thoughts often drifted off his initial fantasy and would find their way to Yasmin on her knees in front of him or Yasmin bent over a table or Yasmin naked on his countertop and it really didn’t take long before his body started to spasm with an incredible release. He panted against the door and groaned when, yet again, he came inside his pyjamas. He took them off and threw them in the laundry basket before washing his hands and splashing water on his face, his neck was still flushed crimson. He unlocked the door quietly and peered out, Yasmin was still where he left her and her breathing was even and deep as he watched her chest rise and fall. Elliot’s heart pounded as he tiptoed naked from the waist down to his dresser and found a new pair of pyjamas, he breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled them past his hips and could finally flop back onto his bed next to her. 

By now the bed had cooled down and he shivered as his feet tucked themselves under the comforter where Yasmin’s body heat had kept her personal cocoon warm and toasty. Elliot couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he laid down and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, he slid his arms around her and allowed himself to snuggle his face into her neck and to inhale her glorious scent. Elliot found himself drifting into a comfortable early-morning snooze amongst a field of elderflowers on a warm summer day.

\--

When Yasmin’s dreams abruptly ended, she squinted her eyes open and caught glimpses of a room that wasn’t hers and an arm that was a lot hairier and tanned than hers was. A smile formed on her face and she shut her eyes again and grasped his hand and gave it a gentle kiss. Yasmin allowed herself to snooze in her state of happiness, she was pretty sure this was the calmest she had been since she arrived in New York. She felt his warm and heavy body behind her and the weight of an arm around her waist, his left hand tucked under her breasts. Yasmin shuffled back towards Elliot until her back came into contact with him and she felt comforted by the rising and falling of his chest as he slept soundly. She sank into his arms and contemplated waking him up, however thought better of it once she realised that meant she wouldn’t have any more time to herself to properly process last night. She settled into a comfortable position and opened her eyes – no longer able to drift into a dreamless sleep. From her position in his bed she could see the dresser and a pile of books tucked into the corner – she wondered what he read at bedtime and for some reason found it amusing to think of Elliot propped up by a mountain of pillows with glasses perched on his nose, reading; it was such an un-Elliot thing to do. She’d much rather imagined him dressed in his black street-soldier uniform and saving the day by simply typing away at his keyboard and performing miracles by hitting ‘enter’ just at the right time, cue explosions firing in the background as he pushed a pair of sunglasses up his nose and coolly walked away from the scene of the crime, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. Yasmin smiled to herself and stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. She thought about last night and how he made her feel when he touched her and how his face and his posture perfectly displayed the other half of his emotions that weren’t vocalised. Yasmin was scared that her decision last night to let him back into her life was the wrong one to have made. Lying in bed with him curled around her was the perfect setting to decide once and for all; it would be easy for her to slip out of his grasp, grab her shoes and leave to go next door and ignore him if that’s what she needed to do. Her thumb stopped stroking his hand as she thought and she worried her lip with her teeth. 

Yasmin couldn’t deny that even when they were still at loggerheads last night, she felt safe in his presence. It showed her that they didn’t need to be friends for her to feel his protection surrounding her; it was slightly daunting for Yasmin as she had never had such a strong male figure in her life other than her father since Elliot came along. The way Elliot acted last night was so different than how she had seen him before as a scared, angry and uncertain guy. This Elliot, the one whose body language was open and kind and the man who was thoughtful and attentive and offered to make her dinner was a full 180° turnaround from the previous person she knew, or thought she knew. Yasmin was scared that there was another Elliot hiding somewhere, waiting to pop out and surprise her; she was worried that this Elliot would not be kind and gentle and could hurt her worse than he previously had. Yasmin would have a shell around herself for a while, just until they settled into whatever relationship they were on the brink of starting. Despite her worries, Yasmin could only think back to the way his eyes melted last night; how they implored her to listen to his words and see the genuine emotion that yearned to be understood. There was a voice in her head that told her to jump off the ledge and let Elliot catch her and to trust him – that she had seen the worst of it when he snapped at her during his meltdown. Yasmin felt Elliot shift behind her and his breath tickled her neck and she shivered. Yasmin grew cold and she wrapped the duvet tighter around herself, pulling it up under her chin. Elliot let out a sigh in his sleep and Yasmin returned to her thoughts, she frowned and furrowed her brow. She kept on trying to think up the worst-case scenario for their relationship but she couldn’t imagine Elliot as the perpetrator – not this man who was tucked around her like a child with a teddy bear, the one who was warm and soft and who had used his fingers to stroke her neck and had every chance to hurt her last night but hadn’t. That Elliot was who he truly was – Yasmin believed he was kind at heart. Elliot was most definitely damaged and had his flaws and insecurities but he wouldn’t hurt Yasmin again – not after he saw how it had hurt her. She saw the burden that filled his eyes and the way his jaw tensed as if in pain and then how he extended the olive branch to her in offering her his hand; he was the one who had initiated all of this, why would he do that to just hurt her in the future? 

Yasmin couldn’t keep going round in circles, she had to decide before he woke up what she was going to do. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath before turning over in Elliot’s arms. The sight that she was presented with hit her in the chest like a freight train. Warm green eyes peeking out from underneath half-mast eyelids stared at her and a small smile sat on his full mouth. Yasmin stared and stared, she couldn’t take her eyes off the way his eyelashes looked against his cheeks or how his pupils contracted and dilated as he, too, looked at her. His arms encircled her once more in a gentle embrace and Yasmin shivered involuntarily. Yasmin watched as Elliot’s eyes looked at her mouth and she realised she was still worrying her lip, it would be sore for a while she thought to herself. She mused that maybe kisses would make it better and decided that was what was needed indeed. Yasmin leaned her head closer to Elliot’s and she blushed as she initiated their first morning kiss. The tingling sensation from his touch had subsided as he pressed his mouth to hers and his hands stroked her back. Yasmin couldn’t help but shiver again and Elliot pulled away from their kiss and frowned at her; Yasmin frowned back questioningly. Elliot sneaked his hand under his t-shirt she wore to rest it on her waist. “I’ve never known someone to shiver so much when they’re wrapped in a comforter,” Elliot croaked, his first words of the day breaking their way through his larynx. Yasmin smiled up at him and he noted a flush on her cheeks. “That’s better, it’s nice to see you blush…” he stroked her cheek with the tip of his nose and left a soft kiss in its wake. 

“How did you sleep?” Yasmin questioned him and continued to let her eyes take in every part of his face and commit them to memory. She imprinted this 4K, super high-resolution picture onto the forefront of her memory, she would set it as her phone background and as her wallpaper for life and Yasmin knew that she would never want to change it. There wouldn’t be a day that went by that she did not see something new in his face and his mannerisms and Yasmin was quietly looking forward to getting to know all of his idiosyncrasies. Elliot nodded an answer to her and kissed the tip of her nose gently; Yasmin smiled wide at him and he smiled back. She concluded that this was how she wanted to wake up for the rest of her life, no more or no less than this. She didn’t need a heavy conversation straight after waking up and was content with soft kisses and watching how when Elliot breathed, he licked his lips. Yasmin wriggled in the duvet and struggled to push her foot out of the covers, needing some relief from the combined temperature of two bodies wrapped in a winter comforter designed specifically to retain heat – Elliot laughed and his fingers softly trailed over her lower back once more. Yasmin suddenly felt hot sparks fly up her spine and down into her groin and she tried to squirm away from him, inadvertently pushing herself further forward and grabbing his shoulders tightly. Elliot’s face displayed a combined state of shock and panic at the sudden contact and her reaction. Yasmin let go of him with a squeal and sat up to extricate herself from the bed. She had no idea that her back was that sensitive and if she was honest to herself she felt insanely turned on just by him touching her. Yasmin sheepishly sat on the edge of the bed and itched her back, feeling his hot fingertips still burning on her skin. Elliot reached for her and wound his fingers around the edge of his shirt and tugged.

“Where’re you going?” he muttered and tugged a little harder. Yasmin reached a hand round and stroked his knuckles reassuringly, she took a deep breath to calm herself and crawled back over to him and placed a kiss on his forehead. “What just happened...?” he asked curiously, his eyes searching her face for an answer, Yasmin just shrugged at him and twirled a lock of his hair around her finger and let it spring back. She let out a giggle and did it again and again, causing Elliot to swat at her hand playfully until she stopped. Yasmin lowered herself onto her elbows and rested her head on her chin with a stupidly wide smile on her face and swung her legs back and forth like she’d seen the movie stars do to their on-screen crush. Elliot grinned at her and pulled a hand out from under her chin and gave it a kiss. “C’mere you, I wasn’t done with my morning hug…” he said steadily, every word dripping with sincerity and fondness. Yasmin let herself be pulled into his arms and Elliot wound them around her waist and held her tightly to his chest. She felt his breath on the back of her neck and his nose gently nudging its way around to her ear and under her jaw, she tilted her head to allow him better access. He hummed softly as he explored and Yasmin closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of him finding his way around her like he had started last night. Yasmin sighed contentedly and felt his fingers stroking her stomach – for once she didn’t feel self-conscious and let herself bask in the attention. She tried to suppress the small, involuntary shivers that ran through her body at his touch and felt herself getting wetter and wetter in his pair of his shorts she wore; it was so wrong but Yasmin didn’t honestly give a fuck as the man she was quickly falling for decided he wanted to explore her body and its reactions to his touch. Yasmin’s skin was tingling in the wake of his caresses and she let slip a quiet moan and immediately Elliot froze, his fingertips hovering over her soft skin. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting that…”he mumbled behind her ear, “Do you want me to stop?” Yasmin shook her head and blushed profusely; she hoped he didn’t see it. She felt like a teenager again – being touched for the first time and causing her body to completely fall apart at the simplest form of contact but Yasmin couldn’t help it when she felt so comfortable and relaxed in his presence. This confident and assured version of Elliot also added to her arousal. Elliot smiled against her ear and kissed it gently and his hands continued to feel his way round, Yasmin relaxed and allowed him to assault her senses. Her head was swimming with impure thoughts and she tried to curb them and simply feel her body as every nerve was stimulated in turn. His hands wandered north and south and east and west and soon most of her torso was burning in varying degrees and her mouth was firmly captured in his and they must have been kissing for at least half an hour. Yasmin pulled away from Elliot’s insistent lips and ran her hand through his hair and tugged it.

“What do you have planned for today?” she whispered to him. He shrugged in his awkward position half-on half-off her and stroked his hand down her side to her hip. “Do you just want to stay here all day?” she giggled at him and he smiled and shrugged again and finished his unspoken sentence with a kiss on her lips. Yasmin kissed him back and tugged at his hair again to pull him away, Elliot huffed playfully. “Well I have to work a half shift this afternoon so you’ll have to entertain yourself,” she made her point by sitting up and pushing him onto his back. Elliot immediately sat up with her and wrestled her back down onto the bed, Yasmin squealed and gripped his upper arms as her head hit the pillow. Yasmin looked up and saw an extremely satisfied and wide grin on Elliot’s face, she couldn’t help but smile back. No words were spoken for the few seconds they looked at each other but Yasmin imagined this would be the time when something typically cheesy would be said in a film. Elliot leaned down and gave her a remarkably soft kiss before letting her up again. Yasmin stroked his knuckles and stood up from his bed and found her shirt. She felt a rush of confidence and, whilst facing away from the bed, she lifted took his shirt off and threw it over her shoulder; she heard a quiet gasp from behind her as she put on her bra and tugged on her own shirt, shortly followed by a groan. Yasmin peeked over her shoulder and saw Elliot resting against the pillows with his hands behind his head, watching the free strip-off, clothes-on show. Yasmin shifted her weight to her other leg with an over-exaggerated swing of her hips and moved her hands to the waistband of his shorts, she heard a draw-in of breath. Yasmin laughed to herself and turned round, throwing a nearby bundle of socks in the direction of Elliot’s head at his perverted behaviour.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” he whined at her and Yasmin giggled and took her tracksuit bottoms into the bathroom to quickly change. She emerged within seconds and walked round to his side of the bed and crouched down to his level. She ruffled his hair playfully and leaned in to give him a chaste kiss on the lips, he pouted when she pulled away and Yasmin laughed at him. 

“I’m going to get on with my life. I suggest you do the same you stinking loser!” she teased him playfully, Elliot’s eyes turned darker and he sniffed under his armpit jokingly. Yasmin stood up and picked up her keys and mobile phone, gave Flipper a stroke and approached the door when she turned to him. “Oh yeah, one more thing. Wouldn’t texting me or posting a note under my door be easier than hacking into my Facebook and writing comments?” Elliot’s head tilted to one side and his face look puzzled.

“I haven’t touched your Facebook, Yasmin.”

Yasmin felt cold and her smile disappeared.


	15. Trojan Horse

Time moved at half speed for Yasmin as she saw Elliot jump up from the bed and take her phone that was gripped in her motionless hand. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him immediately open up the Facebook application and navigate his way round her profile like he had one of his own. Yasmin couldn’t say anything as she thought of the messages that had recently appeared and to which she responded thinking they were Elliot. She felt simultaneously empty and like vomiting as she saw his brow furrow, he huffed and sat down at his desk and started up his desktop. Yasmin finally unfroze and staggered over to his sofa, sitting down on it shakily.

“How long has this been going on?” Elliot mumbled to her, his fingers furiously typing.

Yasmin shrugged and shook her head, disregarding the fact that he wasn’t looking at her. “I don't know…about a week maybe? Before we went to the bar, I think.” Elliot hummed in a response and a small smile quirked at his lips at her mention of their eventful night. 

Yasmin felt naked in that moment, thinking about who could have been spying on her life. She didn’t want someone who was not Elliot posting anonymous and intrusive comments to her. She wrapped her arms around herself as if to hide from this unknown person and watched as various windows popped up on the dual screens of his computer. Yasmin could barely follow the movements of his fingers, let alone the opening and closing of black windows, she turned her head away and clicked her fingers at Flipper until she trotted over. Yasmin busied herself with stroking the little dog and picked her up onto her lap to stroke; Flipper revelled in the attention and she panted happily in her lap. Yasmin needed something solid to keep her grounded in the here and now and to not drift off into her own head.

“Who is it, Elliot?” she asked quietly. She saw him shake his head and his eyebrows drew closer together as she watched his face in profile. “I swear...I wouldn’t have replied if I had known it wasn’t you…I just…” she trailed off, shaking her head and tears threatened to spill. Flipper looked up at Yasmin hopefully and her paws dug into her lap – Yasmin was thankful for the reminder that she wasn’t dreaming. 

“The IP address comes back to a mobile device in this area.”

“You mean that they could be watching me right now?” Yasmin asked, her tone becoming more and more terrified as she finished the sentence. She peered out of the window cautiously only to be faced with the brick wall of the adjacent building. “Elliot, I’m scared.” She murmured quietly and stuck her face in Flipper’s soft fur. Elliot turned slowly in his chair and watched her, his hands held her phone out to her and Yasmin shook her head and let a few lone tears slip down her cheeks. He placed the phone down and moved to the kitchen and filled a glass with some water, Yasmin nodded an acknowledgement and he placed it on the coffee table. He moved slowly and sat beside her, stroking Flipper gently, she turned her attention to him and scurried onto his knee. Yasmin wiped her face with her sleeve and blew her nose. “Why did this happen to me? I feel…” she shook her head in a mixture of frustration and discomfort and Elliot softly placed his hand on her arm.

“I’m going to find who did this and we’ll get you properly protected. I’ll make sure of it.” Yasmin watched every word spill from his mouth and she nodded a thanks at him and grabbed her phone and opened her Facebook application, intent on changing her password immediately. Elliot watched her type furiously and throw her phone on the table when she was done. Next thing she knew, she was pulled into a warm embrace, her face pressed firmly into Elliot’s chest. She let out a deep breath and hugged him back, grabbing onto his t-shirt that still smelled of her. Flipper sniffed at Yasmin’s face and adjusted her position on Elliot’s knee until she could lie down comfortably – Yasmin smiled and stroked her back. Yasmin felt Elliot kiss her hair sweetly and she smiled into his shirt, glad that he couldn’t see her face. Yasmin sat up and wiped her eyes once more before taking a deep breath and a large gulp of water. Elliot smiled reassuringly at her and resumed stroking Flipper. 

“I guess I better go to work then…”

“Here, give me your information and I’ll change all your passwords for you.” Yasmin looked confused and Elliot hurried to explain. “At least I’ll have something to do whilst I wait for you to come back…” She smiled at him and grabbed a nearby notepad, her hand hovering over the paper. “Your birthday, address, secret answers, social media, stuff like that.” He provided to the clearly-clueless Yasmin. As she scribbled down her information her tongue poked out the side of her mouth. Elliot slouched back on the couch, watching her, and lifted Flipper higher up on his torso, she sniffed at his chest and settled back down. Yasmin placed the notepad with her scrawled information on the coffee table and turned to Elliot and bit her lip. He looked curiously at her and scratched the back of his head. Yasmin moved to sit right next to him and leaned over his relaxed frame, she let her fingers slide through his hair and kissed him soundly. Elliot made a pleased noise in the back of his throat and kissed her back, letting his lower lip be sucked into her mouth as his hand found her lower back. She tugged at his hair and nibbled on his lip, enjoying the sounds she pulled from him which only encouraged her further. Elliot pulled back to take a breath and his neck was red along with his swollen lips; Yasmin smirked and planted one last kiss on them. “Well that was unexpected,” he said smugly. Yasmin blushed and buried her head in his neck and bit him gently, he gasped in surprise and let out an involuntary moan when she pulled back. Yasmin stood up and noted his aroused yet relaxed state and she grinned. Elliot simply smiled back and adjusted himself unabashedly, Yasmin’s eyes darkened but she refused to go back for more; she was already nearly late as it was. She took a deep breath and grabbed her affects before slipping on her shoes and opening the door; Flipper’s head popped up at the sound.

“I swear if you don’t go right now, I won’t be responsible for my actions…” Elliot murmured, his eyes undressing her. Yasmin bit her lip and Elliot laughed. Yasmin quickly slipped out and blew a kiss before shutting the door. Once outside, she took a deep breath and shut her eyes momentarily. What the hell had she got herself into? She smiled to herself and entered her apartment to get ready for work.

\--

At the coffee shop, it was business as usual. Paul spent most of his time in the back office, as it was approaching the end of the month and there were lots of invoices to process and pay checks to organise. Nick sat in his usual seat and, by the amount of to-go cups stacked on the table, he hadn’t cut down on his hazelnut latte addiction nor had the previous barista on duty been as attentive with cleaning up as they perhaps should have been. Yasmin was kept busy throughout the early evening and with an hour to go, business died down. Paul emerged from the office as Yasmin was wiping down the tables for the third time in half an hour – she was still aware of Nick possibly reporting back to his father about any time she was slacking, Yasmin preferred to keep on the boss’ good side.

“Hey Yasmin, would you take over with the invoices? I’ve been doing them so long, my brain is starting to mix up numbers!” Paul explained with a chuckle in his voice. Yasmin smiled gratefully as her table-cleaning ritual was also driving her crazy. “Don’t worry about the front, I’ll take over for the last hour.” She nodded and flashed a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes at Nick as she passed by, he watched her with a deep-set frown on his face. She shut the door as she entered the office and sighed deeply, letting herself relax for a minute before she resumed her work. She sat down at the desk and quickly glanced at her phone, a text message notification shone up at her from an unknown number that asked her to text them when she was finished with work. It was signed with ‘E x’. Yasmin’s heart jumped and she smiled and put her phone back into her pocket. She let the urge to text back motivate her in the final hour of her work. Despite how much she loved being a barista and how easy the work was, she had to admit that it was mind-numbingly boring and the secretarial side of the job was what pushed her into accepting Paul’s offer of employment. The numbers stimulated her brain into working again and it also harked back to her studies back in Alaska; she had a knack for numbers and logic. Yasmin buried her head in the invoices and set to work.

Just over an hour later, Paul disturbed Yasmin from her bubble and she gasped in surprise, he looked sheepish as he noticed her shock. “I’m going home now, would you mind locking up?”  
“Sure, Paul! I have one more left to process then I’ll be out as well.”

“That’s brilliant, Yasmin. I’m glad I found someone with half a brain to employ, you’ve really been a help to me.” Paul blushed slightly and ducked his head. Yasmin felt a warmth radiate through her and she waved goodbye to him and went back to her work before she, too, could begin to blush. She typed the reference code into the business’ inventory spreadsheet along with the corresponding fields and clicked the ‘save’ button before shutting down the computer. Yasmin gathered the papers strewn across the desk and tidied them away into the correct lever-arch files. She stretched in the chair and let out a yawn that arose from deep inside her and blinked away the moisture in the corner of her eyes. As she stood up, she gathered her belongings sat beside the desk and noted that through the window, the shop was dark. Yasmin thought it was a bit strange but resolved that Paul didn’t want any potential customers knocking on the door after hours, thinking the shop was still open for business. She pulled out her phone and sent a text back to the unknown number informing him she would be home in 5 minutes, she signed it with ‘Y x’ and slipped it into her hoodie pocket. Yasmin locked up the office and checked that the coffee machine was turned off before the walked across the darkened shop to the front door.

“Why haven’t you replied, you whore.” Yasmin froze and turned around and saw Nick stood shaking with rage. His shoulders were hunched and his hood was up; he vaguely reminded her of Elliot.

“Nick…what are you still doing here?” she asked shakily. Yasmin’s hand tightened around the keys in her pocket and she felt her phone vibrate against her stomach. 

“Answer me, bitch!” Yasmin jolted, taken aback at his words and took a step back. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?! You’re going to leave me again!” Nick’s pitch rose, panicked and Yasmin took a step to the side; Nick mirrored her movement. “You fucking bitch. You walk around here all day and you smile at me and I know you fucking want me.” Yasmin saw how he was slowly losing control; his body shook violently, his words were spat out of his mouth and he wasn’t aware of Yasmin’s manipulation of his position in front of the door. “You talk back to me on your Facebook page, I bet you were impressed I found you.” Yasmin tried to fathom his words, how he thought that hacking her Facebook was some sort of romantic gesture and that she would even think it was him in the first place. “I saw you with that man the other night…” Yasmin panicked slightly and froze as Elliot’s face came to the forefront of her mind. “He looked like he was a football player, I thought you didn’t go to college!” Nick shouted at her accusatorily, as if Yasmin’s private life was somehow information that should have been shared with him. She let out a breath she was holding; he had only seen her with Chad. Yasmin was silently grateful that he did not seem to know of Elliot’s importance in her life. She opened her mouth to explain. “Don’t you dare speak to me you lying slut! I did everything for you and this is what I get in return! How is that even fair?!” Yasmin shouted in horror as Nick produced a blade from his pocket, and it definitely wasn’t one that she had used to slice customer’s sandwiches during the day, he must have brought it with him, planning to corner her like this.

“Nick, look! That guy was no one, just a friend I met at the library!” she stumbled over her words and tried to figure out the best way to negotiate with him. “I should have told you about him! I’m sorry that I was so thoughtless.” Nick’s face softened slightly at her fake-confession but was soon back to angry and hurt; Yasmin winced. “Please don’t hurt me, I promise I’ll do anything!”

“Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!” Nick’s arm wavered and by now, Yasmin had managed to move them away from the door and closer to where the sharp knives were stored behind the counter. His eyes were wild and Nick lunged for her. Yasmin screamed and ran behind the counter and grabbed whatever sharp object she could find, she reached into the drawer and felt for a knife. As she wrapped her fingers around the handle, the serrated blade sliced through the skin of her thumb and Yasmin gasped as she felt blood begin to ooze from the wound. She thrust the knife in front of her and began to step backwards slowly, Nick’s whole body was shaking with rage as he stalked her. “Look what you’ve done, you stupid bitch! There’s blood everywhere! I tried to keep you safe and look what you’ve fucking done!” Yasmin felt a bit nauseous as she saw the blood covering her thumb and wrist and as it slowly dripped onto the tiled floor. She continued to step backwards until the worst thing that could possibly happen, occurred. Her back hit a wall. 

Yasmin felt an odd sense of déjà vu as she remembered when Elliot had cornered her previously, except this time, her body filled with dread and terror at the sight of an unstable man with a large knife in front of her. A sickeningly pleased smile formed on Nick’s face as he stalked her, the blade glinted in the light from the street outside and Yasmin gulped. Nick’s mouth opened to speak but was disturbed by a sudden breaking of glass as the front door slammed open and a furious Elliot ran towards Yasmin. He barged into Nick and threw him off balance, causing the knife to fall from his grasp and slide under the locked office door. Yasmin cradled her hand to her chest as she watched Elliot regain his footing and approach her, his eyes wide and incensed. Nick was on the floor shouting obscenities at them both as his eyes scoured the floor for the knife. Yasmin faintly heard some of the words however her hearing was muffled by sheer shock at Elliot’s appearance. She couldn’t make out anything he was saying, his hands were on either side of her head and his face look petrified as he noticed the red glove of blood that covered Yasmin’s hand.

The last thing Yasmin remembered was Elliot kicking Nick in the torso once before he fished his phone out of his pocket and dialled for the police before she crumpled onto the floor and her vision became blurry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who saw that coming?
> 
> Update:  
> 500 HITS!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!


	16. Surfing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this went nowhere. I'm having a bit of a block at the moment. I appreciate every email I receive with a notification of kudos and every single view counted. If I could personally all thank you with a message, I would do that. So I will settle for saying a massive 'thank-you' here ~Bethy

The pillows were purple and the stack of books was still in the corner of the room when Yasmin opened her eyes. The early morning sunlight streamed through the window and she squinted as she sat up and rubbed her face. Yasmin winced in pain and saw a white bandage wrapped around her thumb and wrist, she frowned at it until all the memories from the previous night came flooding back to her. Yasmin cradled her hand to her chest as she lay back down – her intention to get a glass of water, forgotten. 

“You okay?” Elliot mumbled, his eyes still closed as he began to wake up. Yasmin nodded and remembered how he had saved her from the crazed Nick. She had no recollection of what had happened after she had blacked out except for a glimpse of Elliot carrying her up the stairs of their building. Elliot flapped his hand about from the other side of the bed trying to find a part of Yasmin, so she shuffled closer to him and he caught her hip. He let out a triumphant sound and scooped her closer, Yasmin lifted her injured hand out of the way and let it hover above her head until he had finished manhandling her – Elliot settled and nuzzled his head in the space between her breast and neck. He let out a satisfied sigh and Yasmin awkwardly extended her arm over his pillow. She felt warm puffs of air on her chest and saw Elliot’s full lips gently touching her skin and she smiled. His eyes flitted behind his closed lids and his brow was slightly furrowed – the creases between his eyebrows slightly more defined than usual. His profile was one that Yasmin never got tired of looking at; she marvelled in his strong jawline and how it definitely must have run in the family and how his top lip protruded over his bottom. She laid her head back onto the pillow and sighed deeply, she tried moving her thumb and it wasn’t too bad at all, she resolved to take painkillers for the rest of the day. Elliot stretched his sleepy muscles and his hand gripped her waist as he relaxed again, his foot had tugged the covers just so Yasmin was a little more exposed to the cold winter air of his apartment, she let out a huff of a laugh and kissed the top of his head. She allowed herself to marvel his dozing form for another minute before she remembered that she _really_ needed to get up.

“Elliot wake up, I have to go pee!” she pushed at his shoulder and he groaned in response, but relented as he let her go and rolled away. Yasmin successfully extricated herself from the bed and went to the bathroom. She checked herself in the mirror as she washed her hands as best as she could and ran her non-injured hand through her hair. Yasmin sighed in frustration when she thought about keeping her hand dry in the shower whilst she washed her hair, she decided to put that thought to the back of her mind until she had to cross that bridge. Yasmin left the bathroom to find an awake Elliot looking at her through squinted eyes. He hadn’t made any attempt to cover up his morning arousal and Yasmin shielded her eyes dramatically. “Elliot, at least try to have some decency!” He laughed at her and rolled onto his stomach, his hand disappeared out of sight and she presumed he was doing something down there in that area that Yasmin was definitely not interested in at all. She peeked through her fingers as she moved to grab a glass of water from the kitchen and awkwardly made them fresh coffee; she managed to spill some roast on the countertop and burned her arm on hot steam. 

She turned away from the fridge and huffed, Elliot smiled at her difficulty and dragged himself from his bed to help. Yasmin only noticed that he hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on as he walked towards her, his arousal had lessened which made Yasmin a little disappointed inside. He reached her and his hand grazed against her arm as he fixed their coffees behind her, she looked at him next to her and nudged him; Elliot glanced at her and flashed a confident toothy smile. Yasmin smirked and laid her head on his shoulder, an idea sparked in her head. She lay a small kiss on his shoulder blade before raising her left hand and smacking his backside as hard as she could before hurrying over to the bed and hiding herself in the duvet. Elliot let out a surprised shout and grinned at her as he tried to grab her hand before she got away, he stalked after her and stood at the end of the bed silently. Yasmin heard nothing after his footsteps stopped and she peeked out from her duvet cocoon, his face held an amused expression and Yasmin grinned innocently up at him.

“Do you have a password to enter the duvet castle?” she asked him with a serious expression. Elliot smiled at her and tried to pull the covers away, Yasmin rolled backwards on the bed and tucked the loose ends of the material under her body. “You may not enter vagabond! A password is required!”

“I don’t need one when you physically assaulted me.” Elliot laughed at her and Yasmin pasted a shocked expression on her face.

“I did no such thing! You exposed your arousal to me earlier!” she screeched at him.

“Not yet, Yasmin.” Elliot winked at her and Yasmin gasped audibly. He walked back to the kitchen and finished making their coffees. Yasmin’s cheeks flushed profusely and she was thankful for her cocoon in that moment. She had to admit, now he had said that, she wondered if and when they would see that part of each other. She felt slightly nervous at the thought of anything more than the contact they had up to now. Yasmin hated to admit it but she had never gone all the way with anyone and the sheer thought of it freaked her out. She didn’t feel nervous about the actual physicality of it, more about how her partner would react. Yasmin knew it was a fickle thing to worry about, she even considered not mentioning it however she decided a long time ago that the person who she was going to lose her virginity to, had the right to know.

“Knock-knock, freshly ground coffee for a Miss. Yasmin!” Elliot sing-songed from outside of Yasmin’s bubble. She pushed her nervous thoughts away, promising herself that she would discuss them with Elliot if it ever came to that point. She let the duvet fall around her waist and smiled up at him, even though it didn’t reach her eyes. Yasmin noted his crease of concern on his forehead and accepted her steaming cup of coffee gladly. Elliot sat down next to her and took a long sip from his cup before motioning to her bandaged hand. “Is it holding up alright?” Yasmin nodded and flexed her thumb showing him it worked fine, she felt a twinge but ignored it.

“Thanks for taking care of me…” Yasmin paused, bit her lip and stole herself to continue. “What…how did you know that there was something wrong?” Elliot scratched the back of his head and looked down whilst fiddling with his mug and pulled a curl at his temple.

“Firstly, you were more than 5 minutes, but also…and don’t hate me for this, I tapped into your phone’s microphone and heard him calling you and bitch and whatnot…I couldn’t risk something happening to you.” Yasmin flushed a little and took another drink from her coffee, as did Elliot.

“I’m not mad. Thank you for being a creepy technologically advanced stalker,” she joked and a smile spread across Elliot’s mouth. He looked up nervously and nodded his head slightly, feeling silently forgiven. Elliot shuffled closer to Yasmin and kissed her forehead quickly as he squeezed her arm, Yasmin held his hand in place when he tried to pull back and he let her caress the back of his hand with her thumb. “I don’t know what would have happened if you weren’t there…” she whispered with her eyes screwed tightly shut. “I don’t know what I’m going to do now.” Yasmin murmured as tears gathered behind her eyelids. Yasmin couldn’t imagine herself going back to work where knowing that Nick was still around. How much did Paul know? Had anyone told him? Yasmin realised once more that she didn’t remember anything that had happened last night and she needed to rectify that. Elliot awkwardly stroked his thumb on her arm as his other hand was preoccupied with holding his cup of coffee. He bent his head down to her level and pecked a small kiss onto her cheek as a tear slipped from her eye and made its way down her cheek. “What happened last night? Like…who knows, how is Nick?” Yasmin trailed off and sniffed loudly as she took another drink from her mug. Elliot leaned back slightly at seeing her regain her composure and scratched his neck.

“I called the police, made sure you were okay…then stuck around until they arrived, gave a report and whatnot and the last thing I saw was them arresting him. You were out of it for the entire thing.” Yasmin nodded with a small smile on her face. She let the information wash over her and felt inexplicably guilty. Yasmin panicked about what she could have done differently in her time at the cafe. What signals had she been giving Nick? Sure, she had served him a hazelnut latte whenever he desired one, but that was mainly out of a sense of duty that he was the boss’ son. What type of flirting had he even picked up from her? Maybe it was the glances at her phone and the smiles? She had responded to his messages on her Facebook, that was a definite indication to him that she was intrigued at least, but obviously in both of their minds, they were thinking of a different person when they typed those words into her ‘Favourite Quotes’ section. Yasmin was knocked from her thoughts by a thumb rubbing between her eyebrows and Elliot’s concerned face staring at hers. 

“You did nothing wrong.”

With those simple words, Yasmin forced a smile and chewed on the inside of her lip as Elliot continued to circle his thumb. He lifted her hand holding the coffee cup to her mouth and nudged it at her lips. 

“Drink and stop thinking.” Yasmin took a sip as commanded but still felt troubled, she shut her eyes and sighed deeply. 

His face filled the forefront of her mind; the way his eyes were crazed and hurt, as if Yasmin had gone out of her way to intentionally cause him pain, how he had clearly planned the attack enough that he had seen fit to bring his own considerably larger knife to the shop all day and to sit and wait for her to be vulnerable. She felt sick at the thought of another human being feeling such hurt that they felt they had to take matters into their own hands. But on the other hand, Yasmin was troubled by Nick’s mental state. She had no inclination of any disorder he may have but it was quite clear that their lack of previous contact and conversation had not suggested to any more than an acquaintanceship between them. Yasmin hoped that she would be able to help Nick find help, even if that help was a friend to talk to or to open his father’s eyes to Nick’s troubled thoughts. She wondered what the protocol was now for going back to work after being threatened with a knife by the boss’ son. Yasmin resolved to contact Paul later however first she had coffee to drink and a dressing to change. 

Yasmin opened her eyes to find Elliot missing from in front of her, his shoes were gone, Flipper and her lead were missing too and Yasmin had a quiet panic that she had caused him to leave her masked by the pretence of taking Flipper for a walk. She quelled her insecure thoughts and finished the rest of her coffee, noting the bitterness of the settled grounds at the bottom of the cup – she always hated that part of her mediocre homemade coffees. A shiver ran through her as she pulled one of Elliot’s black sweaters over her head and picked up their cups to wash, only to remember, she was quite incapable of effectively washing them with only one hand – she decided to try anyway. It took a few minutes for the aged heating system in their building to kick in and for hot water to flow through the tap. Eventually, the sink was filled with hot water, dirty crockery and bubbles and Yasmin set to work washing up with her good hand, she tucked the injured one away in her sweater pocket to avoid the temptation to use it. She managed to get through the plates and forks that were strewn on the counter, but the cups proved difficult. Yasmin sighed and left them in the sink, Elliot could finish them when he got back.

Yasmin pulled her hand from the pocket and felt along the bandage to find an end, Elliot had tucked it away neatly so it would not unravel in her sleep. She found it successfully and began to unwind, wrapping the dressing onto her good hand. Once exposed, the wound stung a little and Yasmin hissed, she turned her hand over and noted some bruising – she walked to the bathroom and began her search for a first aid kit. 

Whilst rummaging around, Yasmin became aware of some knocking on another door on their landing, with voices hollering her name accompanying them. She rushed to the door and opened it, two policemen dressed in full uniform turned to her and she looked curiously at them.

“I’m Yasmin, can I help you?”

“Yes, Miss. We are here to follow up on an assault reported yesterday, would it be possible to talk to you for a moment?” Yasmin nodded and stepped aside, ushering in the two uniformed men. She offered them a drink and they both refused and took a seat on the sofa. She noted their sturdy uniform, with accompanying badges, handcuffs and gun – Yasmin always felt a little uneasy around weaponry, despite growing up in Alaska. “Sorry for the early morning intrusion. We understand last night you were not able to answer any questions, would it be possible to do that now?” Yasmin nodded and pulled a dining room chair across and sat on it, she cradled her hand to her chest protectively. The shorter, bearded officer turned to Yasmin and pulled out a notebook.

“A Mr. Alderson was present at the scene when our colleagues arrived, he gave a short statement however could not provide a full account. Would you be able to fill in the details?” Yasmin recounted the evening to the policemen and had to take a moment to gather herself when she came upon the part where he lunged for her, the policemen were very understanding of her trauma. “So, by your account, you had no prior knowledge of Mr. Yates’ feelings towards you and this attack was completely unprovoked?” Yasmin nodded in affirmation and they scribbled some notes down. The door opened behind Yasmin and she turned to see Elliot’s eyes grow wide and his hand tense on the doorknob; Yasmin smiled reassuringly at him, but he was only focused on the uniforms on his sofa. Elliot composed himself after a few seconds and shut the door behind himself. He bent to unhook Flipper’s lead and he hung it up next to the door, she scurried over to the newcomers and sniffed at them curiously then sat at Yasmin’s feet, softly panting. Elliot strode to stand behind Yasmin and placed a hand on her shoulder, Yasmin felt his fingers tense and tremor through her clothes. The policemen continued their questioning of Yasmin and took photos of her wound, as it was in the early stages of healing and clean unlike the scene their colleagues found last night. Elliot’s hand did not budge from its position and Yasmin felt she was the crutch holding him up as opposed to him reassuring her during the emotional recount of being attacked. Yasmin observed that Elliot was naturally weary of authority figures and especially those who invaded his private bubble; Yasmin felt guilty in that moment for presuming he would be okay with them being present.

The policemen finally stood up after half an hour and informed Elliot and Yasmin that someone would be in touch in regards to the outcome of the investigation and to provide any counselling and further support for her; Yasmin was thankful and showed them out. Elliot stood, frozen to the spot and stared at the space they previously occupied.

The door clicked shut and it was as if time had resumed from being on pause. Elliot rushed over to Yasmin and held her shoulders tightly, Yasmin winced at his grip and his fingers loosened their hold slightly. His eyes searched her face in terror and then confusion and then in wonder. She smiled gradually, seeing his changing emotions and nodded to him and held up her hand.

“I’m fine, I promise. Help me wrap this up again and you have to finish the washing up.” Elliot let a small smile form on his face and he pulled her to his chest softly and wrapped his arms around her. Yasmin rested her head on his shoulder and let out a deep sigh, he hummed in agreement and kissed the top of her head before letting her go and disappearing into the bathroom – presumably to find the first aid kit. Yasmin took a seat on the sofa and patted the spot next to her, Flipper hopped up and sat happily as Yasmin stroked her soft greying fur. Elliot reappeared with an antiseptic wipe and clean gauze, Yasmin grimaced at the former, knowing it would sting. She let Elliot tend to her hand, all the while stroking the small Cairn terrier. With fresh bandages applied, Yasmin placed a soft kiss on Elliot’s mouth and inclined her head towards the kitchen. He pouted dramatically but got up off his knees with a small smile.

Yasmin pulled her legs up underneath her and lifted Flipper onto her lap, the little dog settled down for a nap. She watched as Elliot pushed his sleeves up his firm forearms and finished the last few bits of washing up, he made such a menial task a little bit more interesting just by being him. Yasmin allowed herself to admire his form and mannerisms. She loved how he could pull off virtually anything he wore (today was some simple grey jeans and a dark jumper with an intricate pattern of intertwining fluorescent lines and bare feet) unlike Yasmin, who needed to carefully select shirts with the right neckline to suit her face, or the right cut of jeans so her thighs didn’t look like tree trunks. There was something so comforting to Yasmin about Elliot walking round barefoot, she supposed it was a simple way of showing that he felt relaxed – Yasmin decided this was very important. She of course loved to people-watch and to be able to observe one of her favourite people was an opportunity upon which Yasmin would not pass. To the average person Elliot would probably look like a beanpole; no curves or shape to his body, but Yasmin saw the other details about him that were perhaps overshadowed such as how his forearms indicated that his feet were a little bit larger than other males of his age and also that he had a bad habit of slouching which would cause him serious problems if he did not rectify it soon. 

Upon pulling the plug from the sink, Elliot turned round and leaned against the counter, he smiled at Yasmin and tapped his fingers to a silent rhythm. He pushed himself away and slowly crossed to the sofa and sank down into the cushions, he buried his hand in Flippers fur and she groaned in her sleep and stretched as she settled into a new position. Yasmin smiled and linked their fingers amongst her fluff. His eyes roved over her face in the mid-morning and she suppressed a yawn that surfaced. Elliot shifted closer to her and patted his chest, Yasmin took that as an invitation to snuggle – and who in their right mind was going to refuse? She inhaled deeply as her cheek touched his jumper and his arm wrapped around her waist and buried itself in the sweater pocket – she felt his fingers press into her abdomen gently. Yasmin loved how his citrus scent never left him, no matter where he had been and it felt refreshing every time she inhaled. He scratched the back of his head and another wave of body wash hit Yasmin’s nostrils, she smiled into his chest and tucked her injured right hand into the sweater pocket along with his, his fingers felt their way along the bandage and cradled it with his warmer palm. Yasmin yawned again and moisture pricked at the corner of her eyes, she blinked it away and let her eyelids droop. She started to drift into a comfortable nap as Elliot mumbled unintelligible words into her hair, she decided that sleep was more important that listening and with the next breath he took, she fell into a calm slumber.


	17. Restoration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not been here for months. Deep apologies. Good lord this nearly has 1k views.

A loud and obnoxious ringing woke Yasmin, and apparently Elliot too, up from their nap. Yasmin clambered out of his arms and followed the noise that she identified as her mobile phone. Sleepily, she rubbed her eyes and saw ‘Paul’ flashing across the screen, Yasmin let out a quiet sigh and answered the phone.

“Hi, Yasmin?”

“Hi, Paul. How are you?” she answered conversationally – it’s not like Paul had done anything wrong, except maybe house a potentially dangerous human being. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Elliot stiffen on the couch, his hands gripping hard on his knees that his knuckles were soon paler than the rest of him. Yasmin heard a quiet huff of laughter followed adversely by an extremely serious tone.

“I should be the one asking that. Look,” he drew in a deep breath and she imagined he was fidgeting or running a hand through his hair, “I want you to know that I completely understand if you can’t come back to work here. I will, of course, be devastated at the loss of you as an employee but will 100% understand and respect your decision.” Paul paused and if it weren’t for the gentle breaths down the other end of the phone, Yasmin would have thought he had hung up. “I suppose I’m calling to ask you to allow me to explain my son. By no means dismiss or condone what he did to you, but to inform you of his condition. I can’t even begin to apologise and I take full responsibility for what happe-“

“No, you don't Paul. Don’t you say that! You shouldn’t have to take responsibility,” Yasmin said forcefully, eliciting a gasp from the other end. She picked at her nails and took a deep breath. “I’ll be honest and say it won’t be easy coming back to work, knowing that my blood was once on those tiles but I do love the job and my boss is extremely generous and kind!” Yasmin giggled the last part. She saw Elliot quirk a smile for a second then his face returned to settled back into a worried frown. “I just…” she bit her lip and turned her back to Elliot. “Need to know what happened to him.” she murmured quietly into the receiver. She heard Paul sigh with relief, as if Yasmin had absolved him of all his sins.

“I’d be happy to explain. Maybe we could have a drink, or dinner, or whatever you want. It’s on me either way!” Paul garbled and finished with an embarrassed laugh. Yasmin smiled and turned back to Elliot and wandered back to the sofa, his arms automatically opened to her and she pressed herself into his side. 

“There’s a bar near work that does good beer and chicken wings…” Yasmin said hopefully down the phone, “I mean, only if that sounds alright with you.” Paul laughed heartily and a smile sneaked onto Yasmin’s face, followed by a deep crimson blush. Elliot stiffened his hold on her and pulled his face out of her hair; Yasmin would have to contend with his protestations it seemed. They finished their conversation on a positive note, and Yasmin agreed that she would go back to work after the weekend – Paul was more than accommodating, even insinuated that the paperwork was falling into disarray at her absence. Yasmin checked through her social media quickly and navigated to her Facebook profile. She pressed ‘edit’ and deleted the remaining comment on her ‘Favourite Quotes’ section – the last shred of what had happened had been erased. Yasmin felt relieved. She locked her phone and threw it onto the bed. Elliot hadn’t moved from his stiff position and Yasmin leaned into him a little more, trying to placate him without words. Elliot didn’t react immediately to her touch, his iceman form still stoically intact. Yasmin felt his warm skin pressed against hers and soon his heartbeat was in perfect synchronisation with her own. Minutes passed before he thawed, his hand rubbing small circles into her shoulder and a deep breath escaping his mouth. Elliot shifted as he leaned forward to grab his phone from the table, he tapped away expertly with one hand and showed the screen to Yasmin, she looked up at him with a confused expression when she saw a list of bars. At the top of the list was the bar that Yasmin had in mind to meet Paul at, she tapped the first one and Elliot went back to tapping at the screen. Yasmin heard the sound of incoming mail and she glanced up at Elliot again as he locked his phone and pressed it into his pocket.

“I made you a reservation. At least if I can’t stop you going then I can watch remotely and know you’re safe.” Yasmin huffed a laugh and settled back into her position at Elliot’s side. She felt a comforting warmth radiate through her and wondered if she would always be tucked under Elliot’s protective blanket from now on. Flipper was asleep on the floor, her chest moving up and down quietly. Yasmin felt quite at peace in that moment until a yawn pushed its way from her chest out of her mouth. She stood up from the sofa and pulled out Elliot’s computer chair and waited for him to take the hint. He booted up his desktop and she perched herself on the edge of the bed and watched.

“Change all my passwords to ‘Flipper4Sticks!’ please, I want to lock anyone out that has managed to get in so far.” Elliot nodded and set to work opening windows with familiar website banners, fonts and colours and some which she didn’t recognise. It seemed that Elliot knew of a database where all the accounts associated with an email address were stored – she wasn't sure it was entirely legal but Yasmin supposed Elliot wasn’t entirely legal either. The rhythmic sounds of keyboard taps was fascinating to Yasmin and after the sun had begun to sink in the sky, Elliot tapped the keys for the last time and turned to face her, his forearms bearing his weight on his knees.

“All your accounts are signed out of on all devices: you’ll have to sign into them from now on,” Eliot spoke in a monotone voice and Yasmin felt like he was talking to a client at AllSafe; informing them of the menial duty he just performed. She smiled up at him and patted his knee in a way of thanks.

The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur of routine activities and lots of time spent close to each other; words not necessary to comfort or communicate. Elliot patted his thigh as he walked to the front door and Flipper trotted up behind him stretching her hind legs one at a time, she shook out her fur as he attached her lead and left Yasmin with a small smile. 

Yasmin decided to watch some videos online whilst she waited for Elliot and Flipper to get back. She started up Elliot’s computer once more and entered his seemingly random password that she had determined by following his keystrokes into the login screen. The desktop appeared and she opened a browser. Yasmin was not familiar with this operating system but it was relatively easy to navigate after a few minutes of experimenting and mistaking icons for similarly looking ones on different systems. She navigated to the video streaming site and logged into her newly-protected account to see that one of her favourite streamers was currently online. She clicked onto the video and in record speed, the high quality moving footage started, small people moved over the screen and a high-definition webcam covered the bottom right corner of the game, an animated character narrating the gameplay live. Yasmin curled up on the chair and enjoyed the familiar voices. 

The door creaked open sometime later and Yasmin heard the familiar sounds of footsteps, claws and a clicking sound when Elliot removed the lead from Flipper collar. Yasmin looked over her shoulder and smiled at him exposing her teeth, his face was bemused and he cocked his head and scratched his neck.

“I followed your keystrokes,” Elliot shook his head and had an approving smile on his face as he rummaged around in the kitchen cupboards to prepare dinner for them both. Yasmin turned back to the screen and shouted at the computer as the streamer messed up the level for the umpteenth time.


End file.
